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LIBRARY 

UNivtdsitr  or 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


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UNIVEPSITf  OF  CALIFORNIA    SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02659  1214 


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36g  tbe  Butbor  or 


HOLLAND  OF  TODAY. 
BRITTANY  AND  THE  BRETONS. 
SOME  OLD  FLEMISH  TOWNS. 
MARKEN  AND  ITS  PEOPLE. 
THE  FOREST  OF  ARDEN. 
ETC. 


Co 
/ID?  3BelOY>eJ>  Xa&E  Hnne 


The  Great  Cloth  Hall:     Ypre» 


COPYRIGHT 

19  16  BY 
GEORGE 
WHARTON 
ED WAR  DS 


of  Iflsmtors 


FOREWORD 

^|MHE  unhappy  Flemish  people,  who  are  at  present 
fJU  much  in  the  lime-light,  because  of  the  invasion  and 
^■^  destruction  of  their  once  smiling  and  happy  little 
country,  were  of  a  character  but  little  known  or  under- 
stood by  the  great  outside  world.  The  very  names  of 
their  cities  and  towns  sounded  strangely  in  foreign  ears. 
Towns  named  Ypres,  Courtrai,  Alost,  Fumes,  Tournai, 
were  in  the  beginning  of  the  invasion  unpronounceable  by 
most  people,  but  little  by  little  they  have  become  familiar 
through  newspaper  reports  of  the  barbarities  said  to 
have  been  practised  upon  the  people  by  the  invaders. 
Books  giving  the  characteristics  of  these  heroic  people  are 
eagerly  sought.  Unhappily  these  are  few,  and  it  would 
seem  that  these  very  inadequate  and  random  notes  of  mine 
upon  some  phases  of  the  lives  of  these  people,  particularly 
those  related  to  architecture,  and  the  music  of  their  re- 
nowned chimes  of  bells,  might  be  useful. 


FOREWORD 

they  were  working  for  their  own  profit,  were  their  own 
masters,  and  did  not  grumble.  This  grinding  toil  in  the 
fields,  as  practised  here  where  nothing  was  wasted,  could 
not  of  course  be  a  happy  or  healthful  work,  nor  calculated 
to  elevate  the  peasant  in  intelligence,  so  as  a  matter  of 
fact  the  great  body  of  the  country  people,  who  were  the 
laborers,  were  steeped  in  an  extraordinary  state  of  ignor- 
ance. 

If  their  education  was  neglected,  they  are  still  sound 
Catholics,  and  it  may  be  that  it  was  not  thought  to  be  in 
the  interest  of  the  authorities  that  they  should  be  in- 
structed in  more  worldly  affairs.  I  am  not  prepared  to 
argue  this  question.  I  only  know  that  while  stolid,  and 
unemotional  ordinarily,  they  are  intensely  patriotic. 
They  became  highly  excited  during  the  struggle  some 
years  ago  to  have  their  Flemish  tongue  preserved  and 
taught  in  the  schools,  and  I  remember  the  crowds  of  peo- 
ple thronging  the  streets  of  Antwerp,  Ghent  and  Bruges, 
with  bands  of  music  playing,  and  huge  banners  flying, 
bearing  in  large  letters  legends  such  as  "  Flanders  for  the 
Flemings."  "  Hail  to  the  Flemish  Lion  "  and  "  Flanders 
to  the  Death."  All  this  was  when  the  struggle  between 
the  two  parties  was  going  on. 

The  Flemings  won,  be  it  recorded. 

Let  alone,  the  Fleming  would  have  worked  out  his  own 
salvation  in  his  own  way.    The  country  was  prosperous. 


FOREWORD 

That  the  Fleming  was  not  of  an  artistic  nature  I  found 
during  my  residence  in  these  towns  of  Flanders.    The 
great  towers  and  wondrous  architectural  marvels  through- 
out this  smiling  green  flat  landscape  appealed  to  him  not 
at  all.    He  was  not  interested  in  either  art,  music,  or 
literature.    He  was  of  an  intense  practical  nature.    I  am 
of  course  speaking  of  the  ordinary  or  "  Bourgeois  "  class 
now.    Then,  too,  the  class  of  great  landed  proprietors 
was  numerically  very  small  indeed,  the  land  generally 
being  parcelled  or  hired  out  in  small  squares  or  holdings 
by  the  peasants  themselves.    Occasionally  the  commune 
owned  the  land,  and  sublet  portions  to  the  farmers  at 
prices  controlled  to  some  extent  by  the  demand.    Rarely 
was  a  "  taking  "  (so-called)  more  than  five  acres  or  so  in 
extent.    Many   of   the    old    "Noblesse"    are   without 
landed  estates,  and  this,  I  am  informed,  was  because  their 
lands  were  forfeited  when  the  French  Republic  annexed 
Belgium,  and  were  never  restored  to  them.    Thus  the 
whole  region  of  the  Flemish  littoral  was  given  over  to 
small  holdings  which  were  worked  on  shares  by  the  peas- 
ants under  general  conditions  which  would  be  considered 
intolerable  by  the  Anglo-Saxon.    A  common  and  rather 
depressing  sight  on  the  Belgian  roads  at  dawn  of  day, 
were  the  long  lines  of  trudging  peasants,  men,  women  and 
boys  hurrying  to  the  fields  for  the  long  weary  hours  of  toil 
lasting  often  into  the  dark  of  night.    But  we  were  told 


FOREWORD 

The  King  and  Queen  were  popular,  indeed  beloved;  all 
seemed  to  be  going  well  with  the  people.  Although  Bel- 
gium was  not  a  military  power  such  as  its  great  neighbors 
to  the  north,  the  east,  and  the  south,  its  army  played  an 
important  part  in  the  lives  of  the  people,  and  the  strate- 
gical position  which  the  country  held  filled  in  the  map 
the  ever  present  question  of  "  balance  " ;  the  never  absent 
possibility  of  the  occasion  arising  when  the  army  would 
be  called  upon  to  defend  the  neutrality  of  the  little  coun- 
try. But  they  never  dreamed  that  it  would  come  so  soon. 
.  .  .  One  might  close  with  the  words  of  the  great  Flemish 
song  of  the  poet  Ledeganck: 

"  Thou  art  no  more, 

The  towns  of  yore: 
The  proud-necked,  world-famed  towns, 
The  doughty  lion's  lair ;  " 

(Written  in  1846.) 

[The  Author] 
Greenwich,  Conn. 
April,   1916. 


(ffontfnts 


PAGE 


Malines,  and  Some  of  the  Vanished  Towers  .      17 

Some  Carillons  of  Flanders   ... 41 

Dixmude ,.,    .     .     55 

jL  PRr,S     •         •         •         •         •         •         •         ••        •         •       t«i       •         •         •        ^5 

Commines      . r.,  m    ........    85 

Bergues    .........  r.  1.1    .    r.i    .     93 

Nieuport  .......     .    ,.,  .  i„    :.,    .     .     99 

Alost   ..........    .  ,.  .     .     .     .111 

courtrai .     .  .  ...     .119 

Termonde  (Dendermonde)  .    .-.,  , 133 

Louvain    . r.,  .     .     .     .    147 

DOUAI 1  .:  .  .  .        157 

Oudenaarde 163 

FURNES         ......      ...      .      ,.,      .       .       .       .     171 

The  Artists  of  Malines 181 

A  Word  About  the  Belgians 199 


list  of  Jltostrations 

The  Great  Cloth  Hall:    Ypres     .;    ,.,    ...    Frontispiece 
Title  page  decoration 

PAGE 

The  Tower  of  St.  Rombauld :    Malines  .,     .     .     .  18 

Malines:    A  Quaint  Back  Street 22 

Porte  de  Bruxelles:    Malines 26 

The  Beguinage:    Dixmude      ., 34 

Detail  of  the  Chimes  in  the  Belfry  of  St.  Nicholas : 
Dixmude      ....,.,...., 42 

The  Belfry:    Bergues    .,    ,.,.... 46 

The  Old  Porte  Marechale:    Bruges  .     .     ...  50 

The  Ancient  Place:    Dixmude 56 

The  Great  Jube,  or  Altar  Screen :    Dixmude     .     .  58 

The  Fish  Market:    Dixmude 60 

No.  4,  Rue  de  Dixmude :    Ypres ,  72 

Arcade  of  the  Cloth  Hall ;  Ypres 76 

Gateway,  Wall,  and  Old  Moat:    Ypres      ...  80 

The  Belfry:    Commines 88 

The  Towers  of  St.  Winoc:    Bergues 94 

The  Tower  of  the  Templars:    Nieuport      .      .      .100 

The  Town  Hall — Hall  of  the  Knights  Templar: 
Nieuport      . 103 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


Tower  in  the  Grand'  Place:    Nieuport  .     ,.,     .     ,.,  104 

The  Town  Hall:    Most 112 

The  Belfry:    Courtrai         .120 

The  Broel  Towers:    Courtrai 124 

The  Museum:    Termonde        138 

The  Cathedral:    Louvain 148 

The  Town  Hall:    Louvain .    150 

The  Town  Hall:    Douai 158 

The  Town  Hall:    Oudenaarde     .........    164 

Old  Square  and  Church:    Oudenaarde    .     ,.,     .     .166 

The  Fish  Market:    Ypres 172 

The  Church  of  Our  Lady  of  Hanswyk    .     .     .      .190 


Wmn 


Wmn 


fiDffHE  immense,  flat-topped,  gray  Gothic  spire  which 
iU  dominated  the  picturesque  line  of  low,  red-tiled 
^■^  roofs  showing  here  and  there  above  the  cluster- 
ing, dark-green  masses  of  trees  in  level  meadows,  was 
that  of  St.  Rombauld,  designated  by  Vauban  as  "the 
Eighth  Wonder  of  the  World,"  constructed  by  Kelder- 
mans,  of  the  celebrated  family  of  architects.  He  it  was 
who  designed  the  Bishop's  Palace,  and  the  great  town 
halls  of  Louvain,  Oudenaarde,  and  Brussels,  although 
some  authorities  allege  that  Gauthier  Coolman  designed 
the  Cathedral.    But  without  denying  the  power  and  artis- 

17 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

try  of  this  latter  master,  we  may  still  believe  in  the  well- 
established  claim  of  Keldermans,  who  showed  in  this 
great  tower  the  height  of  art  culminating  in  exalted  work- 
manship. Keldermans  was  selected  by  Marguerite  and 
Philip  of  Savoie  to  build  the  "Greatest  Church  in  Eu- 
rope," and  the  plans,  drawn  with  the  pen  on  large  sheets 
of  parchment  pasted  together,  which  were  preserved  in 
the  Brussels  Museum  up  to  the  outbreak  of  the  war, 
show  what  a  wonder  it  was  to  have  been.  These  plans 
show  the  spire  complete,  but  the  project  was  never  real- 
ized. 

Charles  the  Fifth,  filled  with  admiration  for  this  mas- 
terpiece, showered  Keldermans  with  honors;  made  him 
director  of  construction  of  the  towns  of  Antwerp,  Brus- 
sels, and  Malines,  putting  thus  the  seal  of  artistic  per- 
fection upon  his  dynasty. 

Historical  documents  in  the  Brussels  Library  contained 
the  following: 

"  The  precise  origin  of  the  commencements  of  the  Ca- 
thedral of  Malines  is  unknown,  as  the  ancient  records 
were  destroyed,  together  with  the  archives,  during  the 
troubles  in  the  sixteenth  century.  The  '  Nefs '  and  the 
transepts  are  the  most  ancient,  their  construction  dating 
from  the  thirteenth  century.  It  is  conjectured  that  the 
first  three  erections  of  altars  in  the  choir  and  the  conse- 
cration of  the  monument  took  place  in  March,  1312.    The 

18 


The  Tower  of  .S7.  Rombauld:    M alines 


73 


MALINES 

great  conflagration  of  May,  1342,  which  destroyed  nearly 
all  of  the  town,  spared  the  church  itself,  but  consumed 
the  entire  roof  of  heavy  beams  of  Norway  pine.  The 
ruins  remained  thus  for  a  long  period  because  of  lack  of 
funds  for  restoration,  and  in  the  meantime  services  were 
celebrated  in  the  church  of  St.  Catherine.  It  was  not  un- 
til 1366  that  the  cathedral  was  sufficiently  repaired  to  be 
used  by  the  canons.  Once  begun,  however,  the  repairs 
continued,  although  slowly.  But  the  tower  remained  un- 
completed as  it  was  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Great  War, 
standing  above  the  square  at  the  great  height  of  97.70 
metres."  On  each  face  of  the  tower  was  a  large  open- 
work clock  face,  or  "  cadran,"  of  gilded  copper.  Each 
face  was  forty-seven  feet  in  diameter.  These  clock  faces 
were  the  work  of  Jacques  Willmore,  an  Englishman  by 
birth,  but  a  habitant  of  Malines,  and  cost  the  town  the 
sum  of  ten  thousand  francs  ($2000) .  The  citizens  so 
appreciated  his  work  that  the  council  awarded  him  a 
pension  of  two  hundred  florins,  "  which  he  enjoyed  for 
fourteen  years." 

St.  Rombauld  was  famous  for  its  chime  of  forty-five 
bells  of  remarkable  silvery  quality :  masterpieces  of  Flem- 
ish bell  founding.  Malines  was  for  many  hundreds  of 
years  the  headquarters  of  bell  founding.  Of  the  master 
bell  founders,  the  most  celebrated,  according  to  the  arch- 
ives, was  Jean  Zeelstman,  who  practised  his  art  for  thirty 

19 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

years.  He  made,  in  1446,  for  the  ancient  church  of  Saint 
Michel  at  Lou  vain  (destroyed  by  the  Vandals  in  1914) 
a  large  bell,  bearing  the  inscription :  "  Michael  pre- 
positus  paradisi  quern  nonoripicant  angelorum  civis  fusa 
per  Johann  Zeelstman  anno  dmi,  m.  ccc.  xlvi." 

The  family  of  Waghemans  furnished  a  great  number 
of  bell  founders  of  renown,  who  made  many  of  the  bells 
in  the  carillon  of  the  cathedral  of  St.  Rombauld;  and 
there  was  lastly  the  Van  den  Gheyns  (or  Ghein) ,  of  which 
William  of  Bois-le-Duc  became  "  Bourgeoisie  "  (Burg- 
ess) of  Malines  in  1506.  His  son  Pierre  succeeded  to 
his  business  in  1533,  and  in  turn  left  a  son  Pierre  II,  who 
carried  on  the  great  repute  of  his  father.  The  tower 
of  the  Hospice  of  Notre  Dame  contained  in  1914  a  re- 
markable old  bell  of  clear  mellow  tone  —  bearing  the  in- 
scription :  "  Peeter  Van  den  Ghein  heef t  mi  Ghegotten 
in't  jaer  M.D.  LXXX  VIII."  On  the  lower  rim  were 
the  words :  "  Campana  Sancti  spiritus  Divi  Rumlodi." 
Pierre  Van  den  Ghein  II  had  but  one  son,  Pierre  III,  who 
died  without  issue  in  1618.  William,  however,  left  a 
second  son,  from  whom  descended  the  line  of  later  bell 
founders,  who  made  many  of  the  bells  of  Malines.  Of 
these  Pierre  IV,  who  associated  himself  with  Pierre  de 
Clerck  (a  cousin  german),  made  the  great  "bourdon" 
called  Salvator. 

During  the  later  years  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the 

20 


MALINES 

Van  den  Gheyns  seem  to  have  quitted  the  town,  seeking 
their  fortunes  elsewhere,  for  the  foundry  passed  into 
other  and  less  competent  hands. 

In  Malines  dwelt  the  Primate  of  Belgium,  the  now  cele- 
brated Cardinal  Mercier,  whose  courageous  attitude  in 
the  face  of  the  invaders  has  aroused  the  admiration  of  the 
whole  civilized  world.  Malines,  although  near  Brussels, 
had,  up  to  the  outbreak  of  the  war  and  its  subsequent 
ruin,  perhaps  better  preserved  its  characteristics  than 
more  remote  towns  of  Flanders.  The  market  place  was 
surrounded  by  purely  Flemish  gabled  houses  of  grayish 
stucco  and  stone,  and  these  were  most  charmingly  here 
and  there  reflected  in  the  sluggish  water  of  the  rather  evil- 
smelling  river  Dyle. 

Catholicism  was  a  most  powerful  factor  here,  and  the 
struggle  between  Luther  and  Loyola,  separating  the  an- 
cient from  the  modern  in  Flemish  architecture,  was  no- 
where better  exemplified  than  in  Malines.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  modern  Jesuitism  succeeded  to  the  ancient 
mysticism  without  displacing  it,  and  the  installation  of 
the  first  in  the  very  sanctuary  of  the  latter  has  manifested 
itself  in  the  ornamentation  of  the  ecclesiastical  edifices 
throughout  Flanders,  and  indeed  this  fact  is  very  evident 
to  the  travelers  in  this  region.  The  people  of  Malines 
jealously  retained  the  integrity  of  their  ancient  tongue, 
and  many  books  in  the  language  were  published  here. 


21 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Associations  abounded  in  the  town  banded  together  for 
the  preservation  of  Flemish  as  a  language.  On  fete  days 
these  companies,  headed  by  bands  of  music,  paraded  the 
streets,  bearing  large  silken  banners  on  which,  with  the 
Lion  of  Flanders,  were  inscriptions  such  as  "  Flanders  for 
the  Flemish,"  and  "  J-Iail  to  our  Flemish  Lion."  On  these 
occasions,  too,  the  chimes  in  St.  Rombauld  were  played 
by  a  celebrated  bell-ringer,  while  the  square  below  the 
tower  was  black  with  people  listening  breathlessly  to  the 
songs  of  their  forefathers,  often  joining  in  the  chorus,  the 
sounds  of  the  voices  carrying  a  long  distance.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  square,  in  the  center  of  which  was  a 
fine  statue  of  Margaret  of  Austria,  adjoining  the  recently 
restored  "  Halles,"  a  fine  building  in  the  purest  Renais- 
sance was  being  constructed,  certainly  a  credit  to  the 
town,  and  an  honor  to  its  architect,  attesting  as  it  did 
the  artistic  sense  and  prosperity  of  the  people.  This,  too, 
lies  now  in  ashes  —  alas ! 

Flanders  fairly  bloomed,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
with  exquisite  architecture,  and  this  garden  spot,  this 
cradle  of  art,  as  it  has  well  been  called,  is  levelled  now  in 
heaps  of  shapeless  ruin. 

Certainly  in  this  damp,  low-lying  country  the  Gothic 
style  flourished  amazingly,  and  brought  into  existence 
talent  which  produced  many  cathedrals,  town  halls,  and 
gateways,  the  like  of  which  were  not  to  be  found  else- 

22 


M alines:    A  Quaint  Hack  Street 


MALINES 

where  in  Europe.  These  buildings,  ornamented  with 
lace-like  traceries  and  crowded  with  statuary,  their  in- 
teriors embellished  with  choir  screens  of  marvelous  detail 
wrought  in  stone,  preserved  to  the  world  the  art  of  a  half- 
forgotten  past,  and  these  works  of  incomparable  art  were 
being  cared  for  and  restored  by  the  State  for  the  benefit 
of  the  whole  world.  Here,  too,  in  Malines  was  a  most 
quaint  "  Beguinage,"  or  asylum,  in  an  old  quarter  of  the 
town,  hidden  away  amid  a  network  of  narrow  streets: 
a  community  of  gentle-mannered,  placid-faced  women, 
who  dwelt  in  a  semi-religious  retirement  after  the  ancient 
rules  laid  down  by  Sainte  Begga,  in  little,  low,  red-roofed 
houses  ranged  all  about  a  grass-grown  square.  Here, 
after  depositing  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  they  were 
permitted  to  live  in  groups  of  three  and  four  in  each 
house,  each  coming  and  going  as  she  pleased,  without  tak- 
ing any  formal  vow.  Their  days  were  given  up  to  church, 
hospital,  parish  duties  and  work  among  the  sick  and 
needy:  an  order,  by  the  way,  not  found  outside  of 
Flanders. 

Each  day  brought  for  them  a  monotonous  existence,  the 
same  duties  at  the  same  hours,  waking  in  a  gentle  quie- 
tude, rhythmed  by  the  silvery  notes  of  the  convent  bell 
recalling  them  to  the  duties  of  their  pious  lives,  all  oblivi- 
ous of  the  great  outside  world.  Each  Beguinage  door 
bore  the  name  of  some  saint,  and  often  in  a  moss-covered 

23 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

niche  in  the  old  walls  was  seen  a  small  statue  of  some 
saint,  or  holy  personage,  draped  in  vines. 

The  heavy,  barred  door  was  nail  studded,  and  furnished 
usually  with  an  iron-grilled  wicket,  where  at  the  sound 
of  the  bell  of  the  visitor  a  panel  slid  back  and  a  white- 
coifTed  face  appeared.  This  secluded  quarter  was  not  ex- 
clusively inhabited  by  these  gentle  women,  for  there  were 
other  dwellings  for  those  that  loved  the  quiet  solitude  of 
this  end  of  the  town. 

The  Malines  Beguinage  was  suppressed  by  the  authori- 
ties in  1798,  and  it  was  not  until  1804  that  the  order  was 
permitted  to  resume  operations  under  their  former  rights, 
nor  were  they  allowed  to  resume  their  quaint  costume 
until  the  year  1814. 

In  the  small  church  on  my  last  visit  I  saw  the  portrait 
of  the  Beguine  Catherine  Van  Halter,  the  work  of  the 
painter  I.  Cossiers,  and  another  picture  by  him  represent- 
ing the  dead  Christ  on  the  knees  of  the  Virgin  surrounded 
by  disciples.  Cossiers  seemed  to  revel  in  the  ghastliness 
of  the  scene,  but  the  workmanship  was  certainly  of  a  very 
high  order.  The  Beguine  showed  me  with  much  pride 
their  great  treasure,  a  tiny,  six-inch  figure  of  the  Cruci- 
fixion, carved  from  one  piece  of  ivory  by  Jerome  due 
Quesnoy.  It  was  of  very  admirable  workmanship, 
the  face  being  remarkable  in  expression.  Despatches 
(March,  1916)  report  this  Beguinage  entirely  destroyed 

24 


MALINES 

by  the  siege  guns.  One  wonders  what  was  the  fate  of 
the  saintly  women. 

On  the  Place  de  la  Boucherie  in  Malines  was  the  old 
"  Palais,"  which  was  used  as  a  museum  and  contained 
many  ill-assorted  objects  of  the  greatest  interest  and 
value,  such  as  medals,  embroideries,  weapons,  and  a  fine 
collection  of  ancient  miniatures  on  ivory.  There  was 
also  a  great  iron  "Armoire  Aux  Chartes,"  quite  filled 
with  priceless  parchments,  great  vellum  tomes,  bound  in 
brass;  large  waxen  seals  of  dead  and  gone  rulers  and 
nobles;  heavy  volumes  bound  in  leather,  containing  the 
archives.  And  also  a  most  curious  strong  box  bound 
in  iron  bands,  nail  studded,  and  with  immense  locks 
and  keys,  upon  which  reclined  a  strange,  wooden  figure 
with  a  grinning  face,  clad  in  the  moth-eaten  ancient 
dress  of  Malines,  representing  "  Op  Signorken  "  (the 
card  states) ,  but  the  attendant  told  me  it  was  the  "  Vuyle 
Bridegroom,"  and  related  a  story  of  it  which  cannot  be 
set  down  here,  Flemish  ideas  and  speech  being  rather 
freer  than  ours.  But  the  people,  or  rather  the  peasants, 
are  devoted  to  him,  and  there  were  occasions  when  he  was 
borne  in  triumph  in  processions  when  the  town  was  "  en 
fete." 

The  ancient  palace  of  Margaret  of  York,  wife  of 
Charles  the  Bold,  who  after  the  tragic  death  of  her  con- 
sort retired  to  Malines,  was  in  the  Rue  de  l'Empereur. 

25 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

It  was  used  latterly  as  the  hospital,  and  was  utterly  de- 
stroyed in  the  bombardment  of  1914. 

The  only  remnant  of  the  ancient  fortifications,  I  found 
on  my  last  visit  in  1910,  was  the  fine  gate,  the  "  Porte  de 
Bruxelles,"  with  a  small  section  of  the  walls,  all  reflected 
in  an  old  moat  now  overgrown  with  moss  and  sedge 
grass.  There  were,  too,  quaint  vistas  of  the  old  tower  of 
Our  Lady  of  Hanswyk  and  a  number  of  arched  bridges 
along  the  banks  of  the  yellow  Dyle,  which  flows  slug- 
gishly through  the  old  town. 

On  the  "  Quai-au-sel,"  I  saw  in  1910,  a  number  of  an- 
cient fagades,  most  picturesque  and  quaintly  pinnacled. 
There  also  a  small  botanical  garden  floriated  most  luxuri- 
antly, and  here  again  the  Dyle  reflected  the  mossy  walls 
of  ancient  stone  palaces,  and  there  were  rows  of  tall, 
wooden,  carved  posts  standing  in  the  stream,  to  which 
boats  were  moored  as  in  Venice. 

Throughout  the  town,  up  to  the  time  of  the  bombard- 
ment, were  many  quaint  market-places,  all  grass  grown, 
wherein  on  market  days  were  tall-wheeled,  peasant  carts, 
and  lines  of  huge,  hollow-backed,  thick-legged,  hairy 
horses,  which  were  being  offered  for  sale.  And  there 
were  innumerable  fountains  and  tall  iron  pumps  of 
knights  in  armor;  forgotten  heroes  of  bygone  ages,  all  of 
great  artistic  merit  and  value;  and  over  all  was  the  dom- 
inating tower  of  St.  Rombauld,  vast,  gray,  and  myste- 

26 


I'ortc  df  Bruxelles:     ifedmet 


de- 
md 

i  [an; 

Juai-au 
most  | 
a  small  bo 
re  again 
'.one  palac 

.ich 

aint  n. 

-wheel  i 
ked,  th 

\  a* '  - 


A. 


Dfrfl'nM  . 


MALINES 

rious,  limned  against  the  pearly,  luminous  sky,  the  more 
impressive  perhaps  because  of  its  unfinished  state.  And 
so,  however  interesting  the  other  architectural  attractions 
of  Malines  might  be,  and  they  were  many,  it  was  always 
to  the  great  cathedral  that  one  turned,  for  the  towns- 
people were  so  proud  of  the  great  gray  tower,  venerated 
throughout  the  whole  region,  that  they  were  insistent  that 
we  should  explore  it  to  the  last  detail.  '  The  bells,"  they 
would  exclaim,  "the  great  bells  of  Saint  Rombauld! 
You  have  not  yet  seen  them?  " 

St.  Rombauld  simply  compelled  one's  attention,  and 
ended  by  laying  so  firm  a  hold  upon  the  imagination  that 
at  no  moment  of  the  day  or  night  was  one  wholly  uncon- 
scious of  its  unique  presence.  By  day  and  night  its 
chimes  floated  through  the  air  "  like  the  music  of  fairy 
bells,"  weird  and  soft,  noting  the  passing  hours  in  this 
ancient  Flemish  town.  For  four  hundred  years  it  had 
watched  over  the  varying  fortunes  of  this  region,  gaining 
that  precious  quality  which  appealed  to  Ruskin,  who  said, 
"  Its  glory  is  in  its  age  and  in  that  deep  sense  of  voiceful- 
ness,  of  stern  watching,  of  mysterious  sympathy,  nay, 
even  of  approval  or  condemnation,  which  we  feel  in  walls 
that  have  long  been  washed  by  the  passing  waves  of 
humanity." 

From  below  the  eye  was  carried  upward  by  range  upon 
range  of  exquisite  Gothic  detail  to  the  four  great  open- 

27 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

work,  gilded,  clock  discs,  through  which  one  could  dimly 
see  the  beautiful,  open-pointed  lancets  behind  which  on 
great  beams  hung  the  carillon  bells,  row  upon  row. 

No  words  of  mine  can  give  any  idea  of  the  rich  grayish 
brown  of  this  old  tower  against  the  pale  luminous  sky,  or 
the  pathetic  charm  of  its  wild  bell  music,  shattering  down 
through  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  over  the  sleeping 
town,  as  I  have  heard  it,  standing  by  some  silent,  dark, 
palace-bordered  canal,  watching  the  tall  tower  melting 
into  the  immensity  of  the  dusk,  or  by  day  in  varying  light 
and  shade,  in  storm  and  sunshine,  with  wind-driven 
clouds  chasing  each  other  across  the  sky. 

The  ascent  of  the  tower  was  a  formidable  task,  and 
really  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  have  been  far  more  than 
three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  to  the  topmost  gallery,  when 
I  essayed  it  on  that  stormy  August  day.  It  was  not  an 
easy  task  to  gain  admittance  to  the  tower;  on  two  former 
occasions,  when  I  made  the  attempt,  the  custode  was  not 
to  be  found.  "  He  had  gone  to  market  and  taken  the 
key  to  the  tower  door  with  him,"  said  the  withered  old 
dame  who  at  length  understood  my  wish.  On  this  day, 
however,  she  produced  the  key,  a  huge  iron  one,  weighing, 
I  should  say,  half  a  pound,  from  a  nail  behind  the  green 
door  of  the  entry.  She  unlocked  a  heavy,  white-washed 
door  into  a  dusty,  dim  vestibule,  and  then  proceeded  to 
lock  me  in,  pointing  to  another  door  at  the  farther  end, 

28 


MALINES 

saying,  as  she  returned  to  her  savory  stew  pot  on  the  iron 
stove,  "  Montez,  Montez,  vous  trouverez  l'escalier." 
The  heavy  door  swung  to  by  a  weight  on  a  cord,  and  I 
was  at  the  bottom  step  of  the  winding  stairway  of  the 
tower.  For  a  few  steps  upward  the  way  was  in  darkness, 
up  the  narrow  stone  steps,  clinging  to  a  waxy,  slippery 
rope  attached  to  the  wall,  which  was  grimy  with  dust,  the 
steps  sloping  worn  and  uneven.  Quaint,  gloomy  open- 
ings in  the  wall  revealed  themselves  from  time  to  time  as 
I  toiled  upwards,  openings  into  deep  gulfs  of  mysterious 
gloom,  spanned  at  times  by  huge  oaken  beams.  Here  and 
there  at  dim  landings,  lighted  by  narrow  Gothic  slits  in 
the  walls,  were  blackened,  low  doorways  heavily  bolted 
and  studded  with  iron  nails.  The  narrow  slits  of  win- 
dows served  only  to  let  in  dim,  dusty  beams  of  violet 
light.  Through  one  dark  slit  in  the  wall  I  caught  sight 
of  the  huge  bulk  of  a  bronze  bell,  green  with  the  precious 
patina  of  age,  and  I  fancied  I  heard  footsteps  on  the  stair- 
way that  wound  its  way  above. 

It  was  the  watchman,  a  great  hairy,  oily  Fleming,  clad 
in  a  red  sort  of  jersey,  and  blue  patched  trousers.  On 
the  back  of  his  shock  of  pale,  rope-colored  hair  sat  jaun- 
tily a  diminutive  cap  with  a  glazed  peak.  In  the  lobes 
of  his  huge  ears  were  small  gold  rings. 

I  was  glad  to  see  him  and  to  have  his  company  in  that 
place  of  cobwebs  and  dangling  hand  rope.    I  gave  him 

29 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

a  thick  black  cigar  which  I  had  bought  in  the  market-place 
that  morning,  and  struck  a  match  from  which  we  both  had 
a  light.  He  expressed  wonder  at  my  matches,  those  paper 
cartons  common  in  America,  but  which  he  had  never  be- 
fore seen.  I  gave  them  to  him,  to  his  delight.  He 
brought  me  upwards  into  a  room  crammed  with  strange 
machinery,  all  cranks  and  levers  and  wires  and  pulleys, 
and  before  us  two  great  cylinders  like  unto  a  "  Brobding- 
nagian  "  music  box.  He  drew  out  a  stool  for  me  and 
courteously  bade  me  be  seated,  speaking  in  French  with  a 
strong  Flemish  accent.  He  was,  he  said,  a  mechanic, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  care  for  the  bells  and  the  machinery. 
He  had  an  assistant  who  went  on  duty  at  six  o'clock.  He 
served  watches  of  eight  hours.  There  came  a  "  whir  " 
from  a  fan  above,  and  a  tinkle  from  a  small  bell  some- 
where near  at  hand.  He  said  that  the  half  hour  would 
strike  in  three  minutes.  Had  I  ever  been  in  a  bell  tower 
when  the  chimes  played?  Yes?  Then  M'sieur  knew 
what  to  expect. 

I  took  out  my  watch,  and  from  the  tail  of  my  eye  I 
fancied  that  I  saw  a  gleam  in  his  as  he  appraised  the 
watch  I  held  in  my  hand.  He  drew  his  bench  nearer  to 
me  and  held  out  his  great  hairy,  oily  paw,  saying,  "  Let 
me  see  the  pretty  watch."  "  Not  necessary,"  I  replied, 
putting  it  back  in  my  pocket  and  calmly  eying  him,  al- 
though my  heart  began  to  beat  fast.    I  was  alone  in  the 

30 


MALINES 

tower  with  this  hairy  Cerberus,  who,  for  all  I  knew,  might 
be  contemplating  doing  me  mischief. 

If  I  was  in  danger,  as  I  might  be,  then  I  resolved  to  de- 
fend myself  as  well  as  I  was  able.  I  had  an  ammonia  gun 
in  my  pocket  which  I  carried  to  fend  off  ugly  dogs  by  the 
roadside,  which  infest  the  country.  And  this  I  carried 
in  my  hip  pocket.  It  resembled  somewhat  a  forty-four 
caliber  revolver.  I  put  my  hand  behind  me,  drew  it  forth, 
eying  him  the  while,  and  ostentatiously  toyed  with  it  be- 
fore placing  it  in  my  blouse  side  pocket.  It  had,  I 
thought,  an  instantaneous  effect,  for  he  drew  back,  open- 
ing his  great  mouth  to  say  something,  I  know  not  what 
nor  shall  I  ever  know,  for  at  that  instant  came  a  clang 
from  the  machinery,  a  warning  whir  of  wheels,  the  rattle 
of  chains,  and  one  of  the  great  barrels  began  to  revolve 
slowly;  up  and  down  rattled  the  chains  and  levers,  then, 
faint,  sweet  and  far  off,  I  heard  a  melodious  jangle  fol- 
lowed by  the  first  notes  of  the  "  Mirleton  "  I  had  so  often 
heard  below  in  the  town,  but  now  subdued,  etherealized, 
and  softened  like  unto  the  dream  music  one  fancies  in  the 
night.  The  watchman  now  grinned  reassuringly  at  me, 
and,  rising,  beckoned  me  with  his  huge  grimy  hand  to  fol- 
low him.  Grasping  my  good  ammonia  gun  I  followed 
him  up  a  wooden  stairway  to  a  green  baize  covered  door. 
This  he  opened  to  an  inferno  of  crash  and  din.  The  air 
was  alive  with  tumult  and  the  booming  of  heavy  metal. 

31 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

We  were  among  the  great  bells  of  the  bottom  tier.  Be- 
fore us  was  the  "  bourdon,"  so  called,  weighing  2,200 
pounds,  the  bronze  monster  upon  which  the  bass  note  was 
sounded,  and  which  sounded  the  hour  over  the  level  fields 
of  Flanders.  Dimly  above  I  could  see  other  bells  of  va- 
rious size,  hanging  tier  upon  tier  from  great,  red-painted, 
wooden  beams  clamped  with  iron  bands. 

I  contrived  to  keep  the  watchman  ever  before  me,  not 
trusting  him,  although  his  frank  smile  somewhat  disarmed 
my  suspicion.  It  may  be  I  did  him  an  injustice,  but  I 
liked  not  the  avaricious  gleam  in  his  little  slits  of  eyes. 

The  bells  clanged  and  clashed  as  they  would  break  from 
their  fastenings  and  drop  upon  us,  and  my  brain  reeled 
with  the  discord.  On  they  beat  and  boomed,  as  if  they 
would  never  stop.  No  melody  was  now  apparent,  though 
down  below  it  had  seemed  as  if  their  sweetness  was  all  too 
brief.  Up  here  in  the  tower  they  were  not  at  all  melodi- 
ous; they  were  rough,  discordant,  and  uneven,  some 
sounding  as  though  out  of  tune  and  cracked.  All  of  the 
mystery  and  glamour  of  sweet  tenderness,  all  their  pathos 
and  weirdness,  had  quite  vanished,  and  here  amid  the 
smell  of  lubricating  oil  and  the  heavy,  noisy  grinding 
of  the  cog  wheels,  and  the  rattle  of  iron  chains,  all  the 
poetry  and  elusiveness  of  the  bells  was  certainly  want- 


ing. 


All  at  once  just  before  me  a  great  hammer  raised  its 

32 


MALINES 

head,  and  then  fell  with  a  sounding  clang  upon  the  rim  of 
a  big  bell ;  the  half  hour  had  struck.  All  about  us  the  air 
resounded  and  vibrated  with  the  mighty  waves  of  sound. 
From  the  bells  above  finally  came  the  hum  of  faint  har- 
monics, and  then  followed  silence  like  the  stillness  that 
ensues  after  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder. 

Cerberus  now  beckoned  me  to  accompany  him  amongst 
the  bells,  and  showed  me  the  machinery  that  sets  this  great 
marvel  of  sound  in  motion.  He  showed  me  the  huge 
"  tambour-carillon,"  with  barrels  all  bestudded  with  little 
brass  pegs  which  pull  the  wires  connected  with  the  great 
hammers,  which  in  their  turn  strike  the  forty-six  bells, 
that  unrivaled  chime  known  throughout  Flanders  as  the 
master  work  of  the  Van  den  Gheyns  of  Louvain,  who 
were,  as  already  told,  the  greatest  bell  founders  of  the 
age. 

The  great  hour  bell  weighing,  as  already  noted,  nearly 
a  ton,  required  the  united  strength  of  eight  men  to 
ring  him.  Cerberus  pointed  out  to  me  the  narrow  plank 
runway  between  the  huge  dusty  beams,  whereon  these 
eight  men  stood  to  their  task.  The  carillon  tunes,  he  told 
me,  were  altered  every  year  or  so,  and  to  do  this  required 
the  entire  changing  of  the  small  brass  pegs  in  the  cylin- 
ders, a  most  formidable  task,  I  thought.  He  explained 
that  the  cutting  of  each  hole  costs  sixty  centimes  (twelve 
cents)  and  that  there  were  about  30,000  holes,  so  that  the 

33 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

change  must  be  quite  expensive,  but  I  did  not  figure  it  out 
for  myself. 

The  musical  range  of  this  carillon  chime  of  Malines 
may  be  judged  by  the  fact  that  it  was  possible  to  play, 
following  on  the  hour,  a  selection  from  "  Don  Pasquale," 
and  on  the  half  and  quarter  hours  a  few  bars  from  the 
"  Pre  aux  Clercs."  Every  seven  and  a  half  minutes 
sounded  a  few  jangling  sweet  notes,  and  thus  the  air  over 
the  old  town  of  Malines  and  the  small  hamlets  surround- 
ing it  both  day  and  night  was  musical  with  the  bells  of 
the  carillon. 

On  fete  days  a  certain  famous  bell  ringer  was  engaged 
by  the  authorities  to  play  the  bells  from  the  clavecin. 
This  is  a  sort  of  keyboard  with  pedals  played  by  hand  and 
foot,  fashioned  like  a  rude  piano.  The  work  is  very  hard, 
one  would  think,  but  I  have  heard  some  remarkable  re- 
sults from  it.  In  former  times  the  office  of  "  carillon- 
eur  "  was  a  most  important  position,  and,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  Van  den  Gheyn  family  of  Louvain,  it  was  hered- 
itary. The  music  played  by  these  men,  those  "  morceaux 
fugues,"  once  the  pride  and  pleasure  of  the  Netherlands, 
is  now  the  wonder  and  despair  of  the  modern  bell  ringer, 
however  skillful  he  may  be. 

Cerberus  informed  me  that  sometimes  months  pass  with- 
out a  visit  from  a  stranger  to  his  tower  room,  and  that  he 

34 


The  Begiiinage:    Dixmude 


KS 

>ut 


lines 

•  play, 

ard, 
-kable  re- 
ar illon- 
•r  :  i,  and,  as  in  t: 


- 


>\>n\\\  i.H\      .  lyuuiuy/iH    uVV 


i   ! 


a 


1+i 


i 


. 


51 


;^j 


-«i-'v 


MALINES 

had  to  wind  up  the  mechanism  of  the  immense  clock  twice 
each  day,  and  that  of  the  carillon  separately  three  times 
each  twenty-four  hours,  and  that  it  was  required  of  him 
that  he  should  sound  two  strokes  upon  the  "  do  "  bell 
after  each  quarter,  to  show  that  he  was  "  on  the  job,"  so 
to  speak. 

I  told  him  I  thought  his  task  a  hard  and  lonely  one,  and 
I  offered  him  another  of  the  black  cigars,  which  he  ac- 
cepted with  civility,  but  I  kept  my  hand  ostentatiously  in 
my  blouse  pocket,  where  lay  the  ammonia  gun,  and 
he  saw  plainly  that  I  did  so.  I  am  inclined  now  to  think 
that  my  fears,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  were  ground- 
less, but  nevertheless  they  were  very  real  that  day  in  the 
old  tower  of  Saint  Rombauld. 

He  began  his  task  of  winding  up  the  mechanism,  while 
I  mounted  the  steep  steps  leading  upwards  to  the  top 
gallery.  Here  on  the  open  gallery  I  gazed  north,  east, 
south,  and  west  over  the  placid,  flat,  green-embossed 
meadows  threaded  with  silver,  ribbon-like  waterways, 
upon  which  floated  red-sailed  barges.  Below,  as  in  the 
bottom  of  a  bowl,  lay  Malines,  its  small  red-roofed 
houses  stretching  away  in  all  directions  to  the  remains  of 
the  ancient  walls,  topped  here  and  there  with  a  red-sailed 
windmill,  in  the  midst  of  verdant  fresh  fields  wooded 
here  and  there  with  clumps  of  willows,  where  the  armies 

35 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

of  the  counts  of  Flanders,  and  the  Van  Arteveldes,  fought 
in  the  olden  days. 

I  could  see  the  square  below  where,  in  the  Grand'  Place, 
those  doughty  Knights  of  the  Golden  Fleece  had  gath- 
ered before  the  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land.  Now  a  few 
dwarfed,  black  figures  of  peasants  crawled  like  insects 
across  the  wide  emptiness  of  it.  Here  among  the  startled 
jackdaws  I  lounged  smoking  and  ruminating  upon  the 
bells,  oily  Cerberus,  and  his  lonely  task,  and  inhaling  the 
misty  air  from  the  winding  canals  in  the  fertile  green 
fields  below  — appraising  the  values  of  the  pale  diapha- 
nous sky  of  misty  blue,  harmonizing  so  exquisitely  with 
the  tender  greens  of  the  landscape  which  had  charmed 
Cuyp  and  Memling,  until  the  blue  was  suffused  with 
molten  gold,  and  over  all  the  landscape  spread  a  tender 
and  lovely  radiance,  which  in  turn  became  changed  to 
ruddy  flames  in  the  west,  and  then  the  radiance  began  to 
fade. 

Then  I  bethought  me  that  it  was  time  I  sought  out  the 
terrible  Cerberus,  the  guardian  of  the  tower,  and  induce 
him  peaceably  to  permit  me  to  go  forth  unharmed.  I  con- 
fess that  I  was  coward  enough  to  give  him  two  francs  as 
a  fee  instead  of  the  single  one  which  was  his  due,  and 
then  I  stumbled  down  the  long  winding  stairway,  grasp- 
ing the  slippery  hand  rope  timorously  until  I  gained  the 
street  level,  glad  to  be  among  fellow  beings  once  more, 

36 


MALINES 

but  not  sorry  I  had  spent  the  afternoon  among  the  bells 
of  the  Carillon  of  Saint  Rombauld  —  those  bells  which 
now  lie  broken  among  the  ashes  of  the  tower  in  the  Grand' 
Place  of  the  ruined  town  of  Malines. 


37 


Son*  (Jarillons  of  fflanto  rs 


gotnf  (Jarillons  of  fftonto 

Ctf  T  is  worth  noting  that  nearly  all  of  the  noble  Flem- 
ish towers  with  their  wealth  of  bells  are  almost 
^^  within  sight  (and  I  had  nearly  written,  sound)  of 
each  other.  From  the  summit  of  the  tower  in  Antwerp 
one  could  see  dimly  the  cathedrals  of  Malines  and  Brus- 
sels, perhaps  even  those  of  Bruges  and  Ghent  in  clear 
weather.  Haweis  ("Music  and  Morals")  says  that 
"  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  towers  can  be  seen  from  the 
Antwerp  Cathedral  on  a  fair  morning,"  and  he  was  a 
most  careful  observer.  "  So  these  mighty  spires,  gray  and 
changeless  in  the  high  air,  seem  to  hold  converse  together 
over  the  heads  of  puny  mortals,  and  their  language  is 
rolled  from  tower  to  tower  by  the  music  of  the  bells." 

"  Non  sunt  loquellae  neque  sermones,  audiantur  voces 
eorum,"  (there  is  neither  speech  nor  language,  but  their 
voices  are  heard  among  men) . 

This  is  an  inscription  copied  by  Haweis  in  the  tower  at 
Antwerp,  from  a  great  bell  signed,  "  F.  Hemony  Amstelo- 
damia,  1658." 

Speaking  of  the  rich  decorations  which  the  Van  den 

41 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Gheyns  and  Hemony  lavished  on  their  bells,  he  says, 
"  The  decorations  worked  in  bas  relief  around  some  of  the 
old  bells  are  extremely  beautiful,  while  the  inscriptions 
are  often  highly  suggestive,  and  even  touching."  These 
decorations  are  usually  confined  to  the  top  and  bottom 
rims  of  the  bell,  and  are  in  low  relief,  so  as  to  impede  the 
vibration  as  little  as  possible.  At  Malines  on  a  bell  bear- 
ing date  "  1697,  Antwerp  "  (now  destroyed)  there  is  an 
amazingly  vigorous  hunt  through  a  forest  with  dogs  and 
all  kinds  of  animals.  I  did  not  see  this  bell  when  I  was 
in  the  tower  of  St.  Rombauld,  as  the  light  in  the  bell 
chamber  was  very  dim.  The  inscription  was  carried  right 
around  the  bell,  and  had  all  the  grace  and  freedom  of  a 
spirited  sketch. 

On  one  of  Hemony's  bells  dated  1674  and  bearing  the 
inscription,  "  Laudate  Domini  omnes  Gentes,"  we  no- 
ticed a  long  procession  of  cherub  boys  dancing  and  ringing 
flat  hand  bells  such  as  are  even  now  rung  before  the  Host 
in  street  processions. 

Some  of  the  inscriptions  are  barely  legible  because  of 
the  peculiarity  of  the  Gothic  letters.  Haweis  mentions 
seeing  the  initials  J.  R.  ("John  Ruskin")  in  the  deep 
sill  of  the  staircase  window;  underneath  a  slight  design 
of  a  rose  window  apparently  sketched  with  the  point  of 
a  compass.  Ruskin  loved  the  Malines  Cathedral  well, 
and  made  many  sketches  of  detail  while  there.    I  looked 

42 


Detail  of  the  Chimes  in  the  Belfry  of  St.  Nicholas:  Dixmude 


• 


' 


' 


SOME  CARILLONS  OF  FLANDERS 

carefully  for  these  initials,  but  I  could  not  find  them,  I 
am  sorry  to  say. 

Bells  have  been  strangely  neglected  by  antiquaries  and 
historians,  and  but  few  facts  concerning  them  are  to  be 
found  in  the  libraries.  Haweis  speaks  of  the  difficulty  he 
encountered  in  finding  data  about  the  chimes  of  the  Low 
Countries,  alleging  that  the  published  accounts  and 
rumors  about  their  size,  weight,  and  age  are  seldom  ac- 
curate or  reliable.  Even  in  the  great  libraries  and 
archives  of  the  Netherlands  at  Louvain,  Bruges,  or  Brus- 
sels the  librarians  were  unable  to  furnish  him  with  ac- 
curate information. 

He  says :  "  The  great  folios  of  Louvain,  Antwerp,  and 
Mechlin  (Malines)  containing  what  is  generally  sup- 
posed to  be  an  exhaustive  transcript  of  all  the  monumen- 
tal and  funereal  inscriptions  in  Belgium,  will  often  be- 
stow but  a  couple  of  dates  and  one  inscription  upon  a 
richly  decorated  and  inscribed  carillon  of  thirty  or  forty 
bells.  The  reason  of  this  is  not  far  to  seek.  The  fact 
is,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  get  at  the  bells  when  once  they 
are  hung,  and  many  an  antiquarian  who  will  haunt  tombs 
and  pore  over  illegible  brasses  with  commendable  pa- 
tience will  decline  to  risk  his  neck  in  the  most  interesting 
of  belfries.  The  pursuit,  too,  is  often  a  disappointing 
one.  Perhaps  it  is  possible  to  get  half  way  around  a  bell 
and  then  be  prevented  by  a  thick  beam,  or  the  bell's  own 

43 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

wheel  from  seeing  the  outer  half,  which,  by  perverse 
chance,  generally  contains  the  date  and  the  name  of  the 
founder. 

"  Perhaps  the  oldest  bell  is  quite  inaccessible,  or,  after 
a  half  hour's  climbing  amid  the  utmost  dust  and  difficulty, 
we  reach  a  perfectly  blank  or  commonplace  bell." 

He  gives  the  date  of  1620,  as  that  when  the  family  of 
Van  den  Gheyns  were  bringing  the  art  of  bell  founding 
to  perfection  in  Louvain,  and  notes  that  the  tower  and 
bells  of  each  fortified  town  were  half  civic  property. 
Thus  the  curfew,  the  carolus,  and  the  St.  Mary  bells  in 
Antwerp  Cathedral  belong  to  the  town. 

"  Let  us,"  he  says,  "  enter  the  town  of  Mechlin 
(Malines)  in  the  year  1638.  The  old  wooden  bridge 
(over  the  river  Dyle)  has  since  been  replaced  by  a 
stone  one.  To  this  day  the  elaborately  carved  fagades 
of  the  old  houses  close  on  the  water  are  of  incomparable 
richness  of  design.  The  peculiar  ascent  of  steps  leading 
up  to  the  angle  of  the  roof,  in  a  style  borrowed  from  the 
Spaniards,  is  a  style  everywhere  to  be  met  with.  The 
noblest  of  square  florid  Gothic  towers,  the  tower  of  St. 
Rombauld  (variously  spelled  St.  Rombaud,  St.  Rom- 
baut,  or  St.  Rombod)  finished  up  to  three  hundred  and 
forty-eight  feet,  guides  us  to  what  is  now  called  the 
Grand'  Place,  where  in  an  obscure  building  are  the  work- 
shops and  furnaces  adjoining  the  abode  of  Peter  Van  den 

44 


SOME  CARILLONS  OF  FLANDERS 

Gheyn,  the  most  renowned  bell  founder  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  born  in  1605.  In  company  with  his  asso- 
ciate, Deklerk,  arrangements  are  being  made  for  the 
founding  of  a  big  bell. 

"  Before  the  cast  was  made  there  was  no  doubt  great 
controversy  between  the  mighty  smiths,  Deklerk  and  Van 
den  Gheyn:  plans  had  to  be  drawn  out  on  parchment, 
measurements  and  calculations  made,  little  proportions 
weighed  by  fine  instinct,  and  the  defects  and  merits  of 
ever  so  many  bells  canvassed.  The  ordinary  measure- 
ments, which  now  hold  good  for  a  large  bell,  are,  roughly, 
one-fifteenth  of  the  diameter  in  thickness,  and  twelve 
times  the  thickness  in  height.  Describing  the  foundry 
buildings:  The  first  is  for  the  furnaces,  containing  the 
vast  caldron  for  the  fusing  of  the  metal;  in  the  second 
is  a  kind  of  shallow  well,  where  the  bell  would  have  to  be 
modeled  in  clay. 

"  The  object  to  be  first  attained  is  a  hollow  mold  of  the 
exact  size  and  shape  of  the  intended  bell,  into  which  the 
liquid  metal  is  poured  through  a  tube  from  the  furnace, 
and  this  mold  is  constructed  in  the  following  simple  but 
ingenious  manner: 

"  Suppose  the  bell  to  be  six  feet  high,  a  brick  column  of 
about  that  height  is  built  something  in  the  shape  of  the 
outside  of  a  bell.  Upon  the  smooth  surface  of  this  solid 
bell-shaped  mass  can  now  be  laid  figures,  decorations,  and 

45 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

inscriptions  in  wax;  a  large  quantity  of  the  most  deli- 
cately prepared  clay  is  then  produced,  the  model  is 
slightly  washed  with  some  kind  of  oil  to  prevent  the  fine 
clay  from  sticking  to  it,  and  three  or  four  coats  of  the  fine 
clay  in  an  almost  liquid  state  are  daubed  carefully  all 
over  the  model.  Next,  a  coating  of  common  clay  is  added 
to  strengthen  the  mold  to  the  thickness  of  some  inches. 
And  thus  the  model  stands  with  its  great  bell-shaped  cover 
closely  fitting  over  it. 

"  A  fire  is  now  lighted  underneath,  the  brick  work  in  the 
interior  is  heated,  through  the  clay,  through  the  wax  orna- 
ments and  oils,  which  steam  out  in  vapor  through  two 
holes  at  the  top,  leaving  their  impressions  on  the  inside 
of  the  cover  (of  clay) . 

"  When  everything  is  baked  thoroughly  hard,  the  cover 
is  raised  bodily  into  the  air  by  a  rope,  and  held  suspended 
some  feet  exactly  above  the  model.  In  the  interior  of  the 
cover  thus  raised  will,  of  course,  be  found  the  exact  im- 
pression in  hollow  of  the  outside  of  the  bell.  The  model 
of  clay  and  masonry  is  then  broken  up,  and  its  place  is 
taken  by  another  perfectly  smooth  model,  only  smaller  — 
exactly  the  size  of  the  inside  of  the  bell,  in  fact.  On 
this  the  great  cover  now  descends,  and  is  stopped  in  time 
to  leave  a  hollow  space  between  the  new  model  and  itself. 
This  is  effected  simply  by  the  bottom  rim  of  the  new 

46 


The  Belfry:    Berguea 


a  ii\'v 


yiof 


SOME  CARILLONS  OF  FLANDERS 

model  forming  a  base,  at  the  proper  distance  upon  which 
the  rim  of  the  clay  cover  may  rest  in  its  descent. 

"  The  hollow  space  between  the  clay  cover  and  second 
clay  mold  is  now  the  exact  shape  of  the  required  bell,  and 
only  waits  to  be  filled  with  metal. 

"  So  far  all  has  been  comparatively  easy ;  but  the  critical 
moment  has  now  arrived.    The  furnaces  have  long  been 
smoking;  the  brick  work  containing  the  caldron  is  almost 
glowing  with  red  heat;  a  vast  draft  passage  underneath 
the  floor  keeps  the  fire  rapid;  from  time  to  time  it  leaps 
up  with  a  hundred  angry  tongues,  or  in  one  sheet  of  flame, 
over  the  furnace-imbedded  caldron.    Then  the  cunning 
artificer  brings  forth  his  heaps  of  choice  metal,  large  cakes 
of  red  coruscated  copper  from  Drontheim,  called  "  Ro- 
sette," owing  to  a  certain  rare  pink  bloom  that  seems  to  lie 
all  over  it  like  the  purple  on  a  plum;  then  a  quantity  of 
tin,  so  highly  refined  that  it  shines  and  glistens  like  pure 
silver;  these  are  thrown  into  the  caldron  and  melted  down 
together.    Kings  and  nobles  have  stood  beside  those  fa- 
mous caldrons,  and  looked  with  reverence  upon  the  mak- 
ing of  these  old  bells.    Nay,  they  have  brought  gold  and 
silver  and,  pronouncing  the  name  of  some  holy  saint  or 
apostle  which  the  bell  was  thereafter  to  bear,  they  have 
flung   in   precious  metals,   rings,   bracelets,   and  even 
bullion. 

47 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

"  But  for  a  moment  or  two  before  the  pipe  which  is  to 
convey  the  metal  to  the  mold  is  opened,  the  smith  stands 
and  stirs  the  molten  mass  to  see  if  all  is  melted.  Then 
he  casts  in  certain  proportions  of  zinc  and  other  metals 
which  belong  to  the  secrets  of  the  trade;  he  knows  how 
much  depends  upon  these  little  refinements,  which  he  has 
acquired  by  experience,  and  which  perhaps  he  could  not 
impart  even  if  he  would,  so  true  is  it  that  in  every  art  that 
which  constitutes  success  is  a  matter  of  instinct,  and  not 
of  rule,  or  even  science. 

"  He  knows,  too,  that  almost  everything  depends  upon 
the  moment  chosen  for  flooding  the  mold.  Standing  in 
the  intense  heat,  and  calling  loudly  for  a  still  more  raging 
fire,  he  stirs  the  metal  once  more.  At  a  given  signal  the 
pipe  is  opened,  and  with  a  long  smothered  rush  the  molten 
metal  fills  the  mold  to  the  brim.  Nothing  now  remains 
but  to  let  the  metal  cool,  and  then  to  break  up  the  clay 
and  brick  work  and  extract  the  bell,  which  is  then  finished 
for  better  or  for  worse." 

We  learn  much  of  the  difficulties  encountered  even  by 
these  great  masters  in  successfully  casting  the  bells,  and 
that  even  they  were  not  exempt  from  failure.  "The 
Great  Salvator  "  bell  at  Malines,  made  by  Peter  Van  den 
Gheyn,  cracked  eight  years  after  it  was  hung  in  the  tower 
(1696) .    It  was  recast  by  De  Haze  of  Antwerp,  and  ex- 

48 


SOME  CARILLONS  OF  FLANDERS 

isted  up  to  a  few  years  ago  —  surely  a  good  long  life  for 
any  active  bell. 

In  the  belfry  of  St.  Peter's  at  Louvain,  which  is  now  in 
ruins  and  level  with  the  street,  was  a  great  bell  of  splen- 
did tone,  bearing  the  following  inscription :  "  Claes 
Noorden  Johan  Albert  de  Grave  me  fecerunt  Amstel  — 
odamia,  MDCCXIV." 

Haweis  mentions  also  the  names  of  Bartholomews 
Goethale,  1680,  who  made  a  bell  now  in  St.  Stephen's 
belfry  at  Ghent;  and  another,  Andrew  Steilert,  1563,  at 
Malines  (Mechlin) .  The  great  carillon  in  the  belfry  at 
Bruges,  thus  far  spared  by  the  iconoclasts  of  1914,  consist- 
ing of  forty  bells  and  one  large  Bourdon,  or  triumphal 
bell,  is  from  the  foundry  of  the  great  Dumery,  who  also 
made  the  carillon  at  Antwerp. 

Haweis  credits  Petrus  Hemony,  1658,  with  being  the 
most  prolific  of  all  the  bell  founders.  He  was  a  good 
musician  and  took  to  bell  founding  only  late  in  life. 
"  His  small  bells  are  exceedingly  fine,  but  his  larger  ones 
are  seldom  true." 

To  the  ear  of  so  eminent  an  authority  this  may  be  true, 
but,  to  my  own,  the  bells  seem  quite  perfect,  and  I  have 
repeatedly  and  most  attentively  listened  to  them  from  be- 
low in  the  Grand'  Place,  trying  to  discover  the  inharmoni- 
ous note  that  troubled  him.    I  ventured  to  ask  one  of  the 

49 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

priests  if  he  had  noticed  any  flatness  in  the  notes,  and  he 
scorned  the  idea,  saying  that  the  bells,  "  all  of  them," 
were  perfect. 

Nevertheless,  I  must  accept  the  statement  of  Haweis, 
who  for  years  made  a  study  of  these  bells  and  their  indi- 
vidualities and  than  whom  perhaps  never  has  lived  a  more 
eminent  authority. 

From  my  room  in  the  small  hotel  de  Buda,  just  beneath 
the  old  gray  tower  of  St.  Rombauld  in  this  ancient  town 
of  Malines,  I  have  listened  by  day  and  night  to  the  music 
of  these  bells,  which  sounded  so  exquisite  to  me  that  I  can 
still  recall  them.  The  poet  has  beautifully  expressed  the 
idea  of  the  bell  music  of  Flanders  thus,  "  The  Wind  that 
sweeps  over  her  campagnas  and  fertile  levels  is  full  of 
broken  melodious  whispers  "  (Haweis) . 

Certainly  these  chimes  of  bells  playing  thus  by  day  and 
night,  day  in,  day  out,  year  after  year,  must  exercise  a 
most  potent  influence  upon  the  imagination  and  life  of 
the  people. 

The  Flemish  peasant  is  born,  grows  up,  lives  his  life 
out,  and  finally  is  laid  away  to  the  music  of  these  ancient 
bells. 

When  I  came  away  from  Malines  and  reached  Antwerp, 
I  lodged  in  the  Place  Verte,  as  near  to  the  chimes  as  I 
could  get.  My  student  days  being  over,  I  found  that  I 
had  a  strange  sense  of  loss,  as  if  I  had  lost  a  dear  and 

50 


The  Old  Porte  Marechale:    Bruges 


V 


4       <* 


SOME  CARILLONS  OF  FLANDERS 

valued  friend,  for  the  sound  of  the  bells  had  become  really 
a  part  of  my  daily  existence. 

Victor  Hugo,  who  traveled  through  Flanders  in  1837, 
stopped  for  a  time  in  Malines,  and  was  so  impressed  with 
the  carillon  that  he  is  said  to  have  written  there  the  fol- 
lowing lines  by  moonlight  with  a  diamond  upon  the  win- 
dow-pane in  his  room : 

"  J'aime  le  carillon  dans  tes  cites  Antiques, 
O  vieux  pays,  gardien  de  tes  moeurs  domestiques, 
Noble  Flandre,  ou  le  Nord  se  rechauffe  engourdi 
Au  soleil  de  Castille  et  s'accouple  au  Midi. 
Le  carillon,  c'est  l'heure  inattendue  et  folle 
Que  l'oeil  croit  voir,  vetue  en  danseuse  espagnole 
Apparaitre  soudain  par  le  trou  vif  et  clair 
Que  ferait,  en  s'ouvrant,  une  porte  de  Pair." 

It  was  not  until  the  seventeenth  century  that  Flanders 
began  to  place  these  wondrous  collections  of  bells  in  her 
great  towers,  which  seem  to  have  been  built  for  them. 
Thus  came  the  carillons  of  Malines,  Bruges,  Ghent,  Ant- 
werp, Louvain,  and  Tournai.  Of  these,  Antwerp  pos- 
sessed the  greatest  in  number,  sixty-five  bells.  Malines 
came  next  with  forty-four,  then  Bruges  with  forty,  and  a 
great  bourdon  or  bass  bell;  then  Tournai  and  Louvain 
with  forty,  and  finally  Ghent  with  thirty-nine. 

In  ancient  times  these  carillons  were  played  by  hand 
on  a  keyboard,  called  a  clavecin.  In  the  belfry  at  Bruges, 
in  a  dusty  old  chamber  with  a  leaden  floor,  I  found  a  very 

51 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

old  clavecin.  It  was  simply  a  rude  keyboard  much  like 
that  of  a  primitive  kind  of  organ,  presenting  a  number  of 
jutting  handles,  something  like  rolling  pins,  each  of  which 
was  attached  to  a  wire  operating  the  hammer,  in  the  bell 
chamber  overhead,  which  strikes  the  rim  of  the  bells. 
There  was  an  old  red,  leather-covered  bench  before  this 
machine  on  which  the  performer  sat,  and  it  must  have 
been  a  task  requiring  considerable  strength  and  agility  so 
to  smite  each  of  these  pins  with  his  gloved  fist,  his  knees 
and  each  of  his  feet  (on  the  foot  board)  that  the  ham- 
mers above  would  fall  on  the  rims  of  the  different  bells. 

From  my  room  in  the  old  "  Panier  d'or  "  in  the  market- 
place on  many  nights  have  I  watched  the  tower  against 
the  dim  sky,  and  seen  the  light  of  the  "  veilleur"  shining 
in  the  topmost  window,  where  he  keeps  watch  over  the 
sleeping  town,  and  sounds  two  strokes  upon  a  small  bell 
after  each  quarter  is  struck,  to  show  that  he  is  on  watch. 
And  so  passed  the  time  in  this  peaceful  land  until  that 
fatal  day  in  August,  1914. 


52 


©ixmudf 


JDixtmito 


^■WHERE  is  no  longer  a  Grand'  Place  at  Dixmude. 
ill  Of  the  town,  the  great  squat  church  of  St.  Martin, 
^■^  and  the  quaint  town  hall  adjoining  it,  now  not  one 
stone  remains  upon  another.  The  old  mossy  walls  and 
bastion  are  level  with  the  soil,  and  even  the  course  of  the 
small  sluggishly  flowing  river  Yser  is  changed  by  the 
ruin  that  chokes  it. 

I  found  it  to  be  a  melancholy,  faded-out  kind  of  place 
in  1910,  when  I  last  saw  it.  I  came  down  from  Antwerp 
especially  to  see  old  St.  Martin's,  which  enshrined  a  most 
wondrous  Jube,  or  altar  screen,  and  a  chime  of  bells 
from  the  workshop  of  the  Van  den  Gheyns.  There  was 
likewise  on  the  Grand'  Place,  a  fine  old  prison  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  its  windows  all  closed  with  rusty  iron 
bars,  most  of  which  were  loose  in  the  stones.  I  tried  them, 
to  the  manifest  indignation  of  the  solitary  gendarme, 
who  saw  me  from  a  distance  across  the  Grand'  Place  and 
hurried  over  to  place  me  under  arrest.  I  had  to  show  him 
not  only  my  passport  but  my  letter  of  credit  and  my 

55 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

sketch  book  before  he  would  believe  that  I  was  what  I 
claimed  to  be,  a  curious  American,  and  something  of  an 
antiquary.  But  it  was  the  sketch  book  that  won  him,  for 
he  told  me  that  he  had  a  son  studying  painting  in  Antwerp 
at  the  academy.  So  we  smoked  together  on  a  bench  over 
the  bridge  of  the  "  Pape  Gaei  "  and  he  related  the  story 
of  his  life,  while  I  made  a  sketch  of  the  silent,  grass-grown 
Grand'  Place  and  the  squat  tower  of  old  St.  Martin's,  and 
the  Town  Hall  beside  it. 

While  we  sat  there  on  the  bench  only  two  people  crossed 
the  square,  that  same  square  that  witnessed  the  entry  of 
Charles  the  Fifth  amid  the  silk-  and  velvet-clad  nobles 
and  burghers,  and  the  members  of  the  great  and  powerful 
guilds,  which  he  regarded  and  treated  with  such  respect. 
In  those  days  the  town  had  a  population  of  thirty  thou- 
sand or  more.  On  this  day  my  friend  the  gendarme 
told  me  that  there  were  about  eleven  hundred  in  the 
town.  Of  this  eleven  hundred  I  saw  twelve  market  peo- 
ple, the  custode  of  the  church  of  St.  Martin;  ditto  that 
of  the  Town  Hall;  the  gendarme;  one  baby  in  the  arms 
of  a  crippled  girl,  and  two  gaunt  cats. 

The  great  docks  to  which  merchantmen  from  all  parts 
of  the  earth  came  in  ships  in  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries  had  now  vanished,  and  long  green  grass 
waved  in  the  meadows  where  the  channel  had  been. 

The  ancient  corporations  and  brotherhood,  formerly  of 

56 


The  Ancient  Place:    Dixmude 


1 


DIXMUDE 

such  power  and  renown,  had  likewise  long  since  vanished, 
and  nought  remained  but  here  and  there  on  the  silent, 
grass-grown  streets  gray,  ancient  palaces  with  barred  and 
shuttered  windows.  The  very  names  of  those  who  once 
dwelt  there  could  be  found  only  in  the  musty  archives  in 
Bruges  or  Brussels.  A  small  estaminet  across  the  bridge 
bore  the  sign  "  In  den  Pape  Gaei,"  and  to  this  I  fared  and 
wrote  my  notes,  while  the  crippled  girl  carrying  the  baby 
seated  herself  where  she  could  watch  me,  and  then  lapsed 
into  a  sort  of  trance,  with  wide  open  eyes  which  evidently 
saw  not. 

In  company  with  a  large,  black,  savage-looking  dog 
which  traveled  side-ways  regarding  me  threateningly,  I 
thought,  and  gloweringly  refused  my  offers  of  friendship, 
I  crossed  the  Grand'  Place  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  or  Town 
Hall,  the  door  of  which  stood  open.  Inside,  no  living 
soul  responded  to  my  knock.  The  rooms  were  rather 
bare  of  furniture,  many  of  them  of  noble  proportions,  and 
a  few  desks  and  chairs  showed  that  they  were  used  by  the 
town  officers,  wherever  they  were. 

St.  Martin's  was  closed,  and  I  skirted  its  walls,  hoping 
to  find  somewhere  a  door  unfastened  that  I  might  enter 
and  see  the  great  Jube  or  altar  screen.  In  a  small,  evil- 
smelling  alley-way,  where  there  was  a  patch  of  green 
grass,  I  saw  low  down  in  the  wall  a  grated  window,  which 
I  fancied  must  be  at  the  back  of  the  altar.    I  got  down 

57 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

on  my  knees  and,  parting  the  grass  which  grew  there 
rankly,  I  put  my  face  in  against  the  iron  bars  that  closed 
it.  For  a  moment  I  could  see  nothing,  then  when  my  eyes 
became  accustomed  to  the  light  I  saw  a  tall  candle  burn- 
ing on  an  iron  ring  on  the  wall ;  then  a  heavy  black  cross 
beside  it,  and  finally  a  figure  in  some  sort  of  heavy  dark 
robe  kneeling  prostrate  before  it,  only  the  tightly  clasped 
white  hands  gleaming  in  the  dim  candle  light;  almost 
holding  my  breath  I  withdrew  my  head,  feeling  that  I 
was  almost  committing  sacrilege.  Unfortunately  for  me, 
I  dislodged  some  loose  mortar,  and  I  heard  this  rattle 
noisily  into  the  chamber  below.  Then  I  fled  as  rapidly 
as  I  could  down  the  dim  alley-way  to  the  silent  sunlit 
Grand'  Place.  Here  I  found  the  verger,  and  he  admitted 
me  to  the  great  old  church,  in  return  for  a  one-franc  piece, 
and  brought  me  a  rush-bottom  chair  to  a  choice  spot  before 
the  wondrous  Jube,  where  I  made  my  drawing. 

In  the  silence  of  the  great  gray  old  church  I  labored 
over  the  exquisite  Gothic  detail,  all  unmindful  of  the 
passing  time,  when  all  at  once  I  became  conscious  that  a 
small  green  door  beside  the  right  hand  low  retable  was 
moving  outward.  I  ceased  working  and  watched  it;  then 
the  solitary  candle  before  the  statue  of  the  Virgin  gut- 
tered and  flared  up;  then  the  small  door  opened  wide  and 
forth  came  an  old  man  in  a  priest's  cassock,  with  a  staff 
in  his  hand.    The  small,  green,  baize-covered  door  closed 

58 


The  Great  Jube,  or  Altar  Screen:    Dixmude 


DIXMUDE 

noiselessly;  the  old  man  slowly  opened  the  gate  before 
the  altar  and  came  down  the  step  toward  me.  Without 
a  word  he  walked  behind  my  chair  and  peered  over  my 
shoulder  at  the  drawing  I  was  making  of  the  great 
Jube. 

He  tapped  the  floor  with  his  staff,  placed  it  under  his 
arm,  sought  his  pocket  somewhere  beneath  his  cassock, 
from  which  he  produced  a  snuff  box.  From  this  he  took 
a  generous  pinch,  and  a  moment  later  was  blowing  vigor- 
ously that  note  of  satisfaction  that  only  a  devotee  of  the 
powder  can  render  an  effective  adjunct  of  emotion. 

"  Bien  faite,  M'sieur,"  he  exclaimed  at  length,  wiping 
his  eyes  on  a  rather  suspicious  looking  handkerchief. 
"  T-r-r-r-r-es  bien  faite!  J'vous  fais  mes  compliments." 
"  Admirable !  You  have  certainly  rendered  the  spirit  of 
our  great  and  wondrous  altar  screen." 

A  little  later  we  passed  out  of  the  old  church  through 
a  side  door  leading  into  a  small  green  enclosure,  now 
gloomy  in  the  shade  of  the  old  stone  walls.  At  one  end 
was  a  tangle  of  briar,  and  here  were  some  old  graves, 
each  with  a  tinsel  wreath  or  two  on  the  iron  cross.  And 
presiding  over  these  was  the  limp  figure  of  a  one-legged 
man  on  two  crutches,  who  saluted  us.  We  passed  along 
to  the  end  of  the  inclosure,  where  lay  a  chance  beam  of 
sunshine  like  a  bar  of  dusty  gold  against  the  rich  green 
grass. 

59 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

"Oui,  M'sieur,"  said  the  priest,  as  if  continuing  a  sen- 
tence he  was  running  over  in  his  mind.  "  Casse !  Pauvre 
Pierre,  un  peu  casse,  le  pauvre  bonhomme,  but  then,  he's 
good  for  several  years  yet ;  cracked  he  is,  but  only  cracked 
like  a  good  old  basin,  and  (in  the  idiom)  he'll  still  hold 
well  his  bowl  of  soup." 

He  laughed  at  his  wit,  became  grave,  then  shook  out 
another  laugh. 

"  See,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  ground  all  about  us 
strewn  with  morsels  of  tile;  "  the  roof  cracks,  but  it  still 
holds,"  he  added,  pointing  upwards  at  the  old  tower  of 
St.  Martin's.  "  And  now,  M'sieur,  I  shall  take  you  to  my 
house;  tenez,  figure  to  yourself,"  and  he  laid  a  fine,  richly 
veined,  strong  old  hand  upon  my  arm  with  a  charming 
gesture.  "I  have  been  here  twenty-five  years;  I  bought 
all  the  antique  furniture  of  my  predecessor.  I  said  to  my- 
self, '  Yes,  I  shall  buy  the  furniture  for  five  hundred 
francs,  and  then,  later  I  shall  sell  to  a  wealthy  amateur 
for  one  thousand  francs,  perhaps  in  a  year  or  two.' 
Twenty-five  years  ago,  and  I  have  it  yet.  And  now  it 
creaks  and  creaks  and  snaps  in  the  night.  We  all  creak 
and  creak  thus  as  we  grow  old;  ah,  you  should  hear  my 
wardrobes.  '  Elles  cassent  les  dos,'  and  I  lie  in  my  warm 
bed  in  the  winter  nights  and  listen  to  my  antiques  groan 
and  complain.  Poor  old  things,  they  belonged  to  the 
'  Empire  '  Period;  no  wonder  they  groan. 

60 


The  Fish  M 


1  r  l        ijrrHl 
1 


^^?T 


■ 


DIXMUDE 

"  And  when  my  friend  the  notaire  comes  to  play  chess 
with  me,  you  should  see  him  eye  my  antiques,  ah,  so  cov- 
etously; I  see  him,  but  I  never  let  on.  Such  a  collec- 
tion of  antiques  as  we  all  are,  M'sieur."  Then  he  became 
serious,  and  lifting  his  cane  he  pointed  to  a  gravestone 
at  one  side,  "  My  old  servant  lies  there,  M'sieur;  we  are 
all  old  here  now,  but  still  we  do  not  die.  Alas !  we  never 
die.  There  is  plenty  of  room  here  for  us,  but  we  die  hard. 
See,  myotis,  heliotrope,  hare  bells,  and  mignonette,  a  bed 
of  perfume,  and  there  lies  my  old  servant.  A  restless 
old  soul  she  was,  and  she  took  such  a  long  time  to  die. 
She  was  eighty-five  when  she  finally  made  up  her  mind." 

I  had  a  cup  of  wine  with  the  old  man  in  his  small  salle 
a  manger.  His  house  was  indeed  a  mine  of  wealth  for 
the  antiquary  and  collector,  more  like  a  shop  than  a  house. 
I  lingered  with  him  for  nearly  an  hour,  telling  him  of  the 
great  world  lying  beyond  Dixmude,  of  London  and  Paris, 
and  of  New  York  and  some  of  its  wonders,  of  which  I 
fancied  he  was  rather  sceptical.  And  then  I  came  away, 
after  shaking  hands  with  him  at  his  doorstep  in  the  dim 
alley-way,  with  the  bar  of  golden  sunlight  shining  at  the 
entrance  to  the  Grand'  Place  and  the  noise  of  the  rooks 
cawing  on  the  roof. 

"  Au  revoir,  M'sieur  le  Peintre,  et  bon  voyage,  and  re- 
member, '  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given,  seek  and  you  shall 
find,' "  and  with  these  cryptic  words,  he  stood  with  up- 

61 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

lifted  hands,  a  smile  irradiating  his  fine  ascetic  face  glow- 
ing like  that  of  a  saint.  Behind  the  faded  black  of  his 
old  soutane  I  could  see  his  treasures  of  blue  china  and  an- 
cient cabinets,  and  a  chance  light  illumined  a  mirror  be- 
hind his  head,  and  aureoled  him  like  unto  one  of  the  saints 
behind  the  great  "  Jube,"  and  thus  I  left  him. 

And  now  Dixmude  is  in  formless  heaps  of  ashes  and 
burnt  timbers.  Hardly  one  stone  now  remains  upon  an- 
other. There  is  no  longer  a  Grand'  Place  —  and  the 
very  course  of  the  river  Yser  is  changed. 


62 


&M 


$m 


^  W  PRES  as  a  town  grew  out  of  a  rude  sort  of  strong- 
ly hold  built,  says  M.  Vereeke  in  his  "  Histoire  Mili- 
^^  taire  d' Ypres,"  in  the  year  900,  on  a  small  island  in 
the  river  Yperlee.  It  was  in  the  shape  of  a  triangle  with 
a  tower  on  each  corner,  and  was  known  to  the  inhabitants 
as  the  "  Castle  of  the  three  Turrets." 

Its  establishment  was  followed  by  a  collection  of  small 
huts  on  the  banks  of  the  stream,  built  by  those  who  craved 
the  protection  of  the  fortress.  They  built  a  rampart  of 
earth  and  a  wide  ditch  to  defend  it,  and  to  this  they  added 
from  time  to  time  until  the  works  became  so  extensive  that 
a  town  sprang  into  being,  which  from  its  strategic  posi- 
tion on  the  borders  of  France  soon  became  of  great  im- 
portance in  the  wars  that  constantly  occurred.  Prob- 
ably no  other  Flemish  town  has  seen  its  defenses  so  al- 
tered and  enlarged  as  Ypres  has  between  the  primitive 
days  when  the  crusading  Thierry  d' Alsace  planted  hedges 
of  live  thorns  to  strengthen  the  towers,  and  the  formation 
of  the  great  works  of  Vauban.    We  have  been  so  ac- 

65 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

customed  to  regarding  the  Fleming  as  a  sluggish  boor, 
that  it  comes  in  the  nature  of  a  surprise  when  we  read  of 
the  part  these  burghers,  these  weavers  and  spinners,  took 
in  the  great  events  that  distinguished  Flemish  history. 
"  In  July,  1302,  a  contingent  of  twelve  hundred  chosen 
men,  five  hundred  of  them  clothed  in  scarlet  and  the 
rest  in  black,  were  set  to  watch  the  town  and  castle  of 
Courtrai,  and  the  old  Roman  Broel  bridge,  during  the 
battle  of  the  '  Golden  Spurs,'  and  the  following  year 
saw  the  celebration  of  the  establishment  of  the  confra- 
ternity of  the  Archers  of  St.  Sebastian,  which  still  existed 
in  Ypres  when  I  was  there  in  1910.  This  was  the  last 
survivor  of  the  famed,  armed  societies  of  archers  which 
flourished  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Seven  hundred  of  these 
men  of  Ypres  embarked  in  the  Flemish  ships  which  so 
harassed  the  French  fleet  in  the  great  naval  engagement 
of  June,  1340." 

Forty  years  later  five  thousand  men  of  Ypres  fought 
upon  the  battlefield  with  the  French,  on  that  momentous 
day  which  witnessed  the  death  of  Philip  Van  Artevelde 
and  the  triumph  of  Leliarts.  Later,  when  the  Allies  laid 
siege  to  the  town,  defended  by  Leliarts  and  Louis  of 
Maele,  it  was  maintained  by  a  force  of  ten  thousand 
men,  and  on  June  8,  1383,  these  were  joined  by  seventeen 
thousand  English  and  twenty  thousand  Flemings,  these 
latter  from  Bruges  and  Ghent. 

66 


YPRES 

At  this  time  the  gateways  were  the  only  part  of  the 
fortifications  built  of  stone.  The  ramparts  were  of  earth, 
planted  with  thorn  bushes  and  interlaced  with  beams. 
Outside  were  additional  works  of  wooden  posts  and  stock- 
ades, behind  the  dyke,  which  was  also  palisaded.  The 
English,  believing  that  the  town  would  not  strongly  resist 
their  numbers,  tried  to  carry  it  by  assault.  They  were 
easily  repulsed,  to  their  great  astonishment,  with  great 
losses. 

At  last  they  built  three  great  wooden  towers  on  wheels 
filled  with  soldiers,  which  they  pushed  up  to  the  walls, 
but  the  valiant  garrison  swarmed  upon  these  towers,  set 
fire  to  them,  and  either  killed  or  captured  those  who 
manned  them. 

All  the  proposals  of  Spencer  demanding  the  surrender 
of  Ypres  were  met  with  scorn,  and  the  English  were  re- 
peatedly repulsed  with  great  losses  of  men  whenever  they 
attempted  assaults. 

The  English  turned  upon  the  Flemish  of  Ghent  with 
fury,  saying  that  they  had  deceived  them  as  to  the 
strength  of  the  garrison  of  Ypres,  and  Spencer,  realizing 
that  it  was  impossible  to  take  the  town  before  the  French 
army  arrived,  retired  from  the  field  with  his  soldiers. 
This  left  Flanders  at  the  mercy  of  the  French.  But  now 
ensued  the  death  of  Count  Louis  of  Maele  (1384)  and 
this  brought  Flanders  under  the  rule  of  the  House  of 

67 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Burgundy,  which  resulted  in  prosperity  and  well  nigh 
complete  independence  for  the  Flemings. 

The  Great  Kermesse  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Garden  (Notre 
Dame  de  Thuine)  was  then  inaugurated  because  the 
townspeople  believe  that  Ypres  had  been  saved  by  the 
intercession  of  the  Virgin  Mary  —  the  word  Thuin  mean- 
ing in  Flemish  "  an  enclosed  space,  such  as  a  garden  plot," 
an  allusion  to  the  barrier  of  thorns  which  had  so  well  kept 
the  enemy  away  from  the  walls  —  a  sort  of  predecessor 
of  the  barbed-wire  entanglements  used  in  the  present 
great  world  war. 

The  Kermesse  was  held  by  the  people  of  Ypres  on  the 
first  Sunday  in  August  every  year,  called  most  affection- 
ately "  Thuindag,"  and  while  there  in  1910  I  saw  the 
celebration  in  the  great  square  before  the  Cloth  Hall,  and 
listened  to  the  ringing  of  the  chimes;  the  day  being  ush- 
ered in  at  sunrise  by  a  fanfare  of  trumpets  on  the  parapet 
of  the  tower  by  the  members  of  a  local  association,  who 
played  ancient  patriotic  airs  with  great  skill  and  enthusi- 
asm. 

In  the  Place  de  Musee,  a  quiet,  gray  corner  of  this  old 
town,  was  an  ancient  Gothic  house  containing  a  really 
priceless  collection  of  medals  and  instruments  of  torture 
used  during  the  terrible  days  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition. 
I  spent  long  hours  in  these  old  musty  rooms  alone,  and  I 
might  have  stolen  away  whatever  took  my  fancy  had  I 

68 


YPRES 

been  so  minded,  for  the  custode  left  me  quite  alone  to 
wander  at  will,  and  the  cases  containing  the  seals,  parch- 
ments, and  small  objects  were  all  unfastened. 

I  saw  the  other  day  another  wonderful  panorama 
photograph  taken  from  an  aeroplane  showing  Ypres  as 
it  now  is,  a  vast  heap  of  ruins,  the  Cloth  Hall  gutted; 
the  Cathedral  leveled,  and  the  site  of  the  little  old 
museum  a  vast  blackened  hole  in  the  earth  where  a  shell 
had  landed.  The  photograph,  taken  by  an  Englishman, 
was  dated  September,  1915. 

The  great  Hanseatic  League,  that  extensive  system  of 
monopolies,  was  the  cause  of  great  dissatisfaction  and 
many  wars  because  of  jealousy  and  bad  feeling.  Ypres, 
Ghent,  and  Bruges,  while  defending  their  rights  and  priv- 
ileges against  all  other  towns,  fought  among  themselves. 
The  monopoly  enjoyed  by  the  merchant  weavers  of  Ypres 
forbade  all  weaving  for  "  three  leagues  around  the  walls 
of  Ypres,  under  penalty  of  confiscation  of  the  looms  and 
all  of  the  linen  thus  woven." 

Constant  friction  was  thus  engendered  between  the 
towns  of  Ypres  and  Poperinghe,  resulting  in  bloody  bat- 
tles and  the  burning  and  destruction  of  much  property. 
Even  within  the  walls  of  the  town  this  bickering  went 
on  from  year  to  year.  When  they  were  not  quarreling 
with  their  neighbors  over  slights  or  attacks,  either  actual 
or  fancied,  they  fought  among  themselves  over  the  eternal 

69 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

question  of  capital  versus  labor.  A  sharp  line  was  drawn 
between  the  workingman  and  the  members  of  the  guilds 
who  sold  his  output.  The  artisans,  whose  industry  con- 
tributed so  greatly  to  the  prosperity  of  these  towns,  re- 
sented any  infringement  of  their  legal  rights.  The  mer- 
chant magistrates  were  annually  elected,  and  on  one  oc- 
casion, in  1361,  to  be  exact,  because  this  was  omitted,  the 
people  arose  in  their  might  against  the  governors,  who 
were  assembled  in  the  Nieuwerck  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 
The  Baillie,  one  Jean  Deprysenaere,  haughty  in  his  sup- 
posed power,  and  trusting  in  his  office,  as  local  represen- 
tative of  the  Court  of  Flanders,  appeared  before  the  in- 
surgent weavers  and  endeavored  to  appease  them. 
"  They  fell  upon  him  and  slew  him  "  (Vereeke).  Then, 
rushing  into  the  council  chamber,  they  seized  the  other 
magistrates  and  confined  them  in  the  belfry  of  the  Cloth 
Hall. 

"  Then  the  leaders  in  council  resolved  to  kill  the  magis- 
trates, and  beheaded  the  Burgomaster  and  two  sheriffs 
in  the  place  before  the  Cloth  Hall  in  the  presence  of 
their  colleagues  "  (Vereeke) . 

Following  the  custom  of  the  Netherlands,  each  town 
acted  for  itself  alone.  The  popular  form  of  government 
was  that  of  gatherings  in  the  market-place  where  laws 
were  discussed  and  made  by  and  for  the  people.  The 
spirit  of  commercial  jealousy,  however,  kept  them  apart 

70 


YPRES 

and  nullified  their  power.  Consumed  by  the  thirst  for 
commercial,  material  prosperity,  they  had  no  faith  in 
each  other,  no  bond  of  union,  each  being  ready  and  willing 
to  foster  its  own  interest  at  its  rival's  expense.  Thus 
neither  against  foreign  nor  internal  difficulties  were  they 
really  united.  The  motto  of  modern  Belgium,  "  L'Union 
fait  la  Force,"  was  not  yet  invented,  and  there  was  no 
great  and  powerful  authority  in  which  they  believed  and 
about  which  they  could  gather. 

This  history  presents  the  picture  of  Ghent  assisting  an 
army  of  English  soldiers  to  lay  siege  to  Ypres.  So  the 
distrustful  people  dwelt  amid  perpetual  quarreling,  trade 
pitted  against  trade,  town  against  town,  fostering  weak- 
ness of  government  and  shameful  submission  in  defeat. 
No  town  suffered  as  did  Ypres  during  this  distracted  state 
of  affairs  in  Flanders  of  the  sixteenth  century,  which  saw 
it  reduced  from  a  place  of  first  importance  to  a  dead  town 
with  the  population  of  a  village.  And  so  it  remained  up 
to  the  outbreak  of  the  world  war  in  1914. 

This  medieval  and  most  picturesque  of  all  the  towns  of 
Flanders  had  not  felt  the  effect  of  the  wave  of  restoration, 
which  took  place  in  Belgium  during  the  decade  preced- 
ing the  outbreak  of  the  world  war,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
its  monuments  of  the  past  were  perhaps  finer  and  in  a 
better  state  of  preservation  than  those  of  any  of  the  other 
ancient  towns.    Ypres  in  the  early  days  had  treated  the 

71 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

neighboring  town  of  Poperinghe  with  great  severity 
through  jealousy,  but  she  in  turn  suffered  heavily  at  the 
hands  of  Ghent  in  1383-84  when  the  vast  body  of  weavers 
fled,  taking  refuge  in  England,  and  taking  with  them 
all  hope  of  the  town's  future  prosperity. 

Its  decline  .thenceforward  was  rapid,  and  it  never  recov- 
ered its  former  place  in  the  councils  of  Flanders.  Its  two 
great  memorials  of  the  olden  times  were  the  great  Cloth 
Hall,  in  the  Grand'  Place,  and  the  Cathedral  of  Saint 
Martin,  both  dating  from  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies. 

The  Cloth  Hall,  begun  by  Count  Baldwin  IX  of  Flan- 
ders, was  perhaps  the  best  preserved  and  oldest  specimen 
of  its  kind  in  the  Netherlands,  and  was  practically  com- 
plete up  to  the  middle  of  August,  1915,  when  the  great 
guns  of  the  iconoclastic  invader  shot  away  the  top  of  the 
immense  clock  tower,  and  unroofed  the  entire  structure. 
Its  facade  was  nearly  five  hundred  feet  long,  of  most  se- 
vere and  simple  lines,  and  presented  a  double  row  of  ogi- 
val  windows,  surmounted  by  niches  containing  thirty-one 
finely  executed  statues  of  counts  and  countesses  of  Fland- 
ers. There  were  small,  graceful  turrets  at  each  end,  and 
a  lofty  belfry  some  two  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in  height 
in  the  center,  containing  a  fine  set  of  bells  connected  with 
the  mechanism  of  a  carillon. 

The  interior  of  the  hall  was  of  noble  proportions,  run- 

72 


No.  i.  Rue  de  l>i<  I'pres 


rut   cU  ~bi-t**«J<.. 


YPRES 

ning  the  full  length,  its  walls  decorated  by  a  series  of 
paintings  by  two  modern  Flemish  painters,  which  were 
not  of  the  highest  merit,  yet  good  withal.  At  the  market- 
place end  was  a  highly  ornate  structure  called  the  New 
Work  (Nieuwerke),  erected  by  the  burghers  as  a  guild- 
hall in  the  fifteenth  century.  This  was  the  first  part  of 
the  edifice  to  be  ruined  by  a  German  shell. 

The  destruction  of  this  exquisite  work  of  art  seems  en- 
tirely wanton  and  unnecessary.  It  produced  no  result 
whatever  of  advantage.  There  were  neither  English, 
French,  nor  Belgian  soldiers  in  Ypres  at  the  time.  The 
populace  consisted  of  about  ten  thousand  peaceful  peas- 
ants and  shopkeepers,  who,  trusting  in  the  fact  that  the 
town  was  unarmed  and  unfortified,  remained  in  their 
homes.  The  town  was  battered  and  destroyed,  leveled  in 
ashes.  The  bombardment  destroyed  also  the  great  Cathe- 
dral of  Saint  Martin  adjoining  the  Cloth  Hall,  which 
dated  from  the  thirteenth  century  [although  the  tower 
was  not  added  until  the  fifteenth  century].  It  formed 
a  very  fine  specimen  of  late  Gothic,  the  interior  containing 
some  fine  oak  carving  and  a  richly  carved  and  decorated 
organ  loft.  Bishop  Jansenius,  the  founder  of  the  sect  of 
Jansenists,  is  buried  in  a  Gothic  cloister  which  formed  a 
part  of  the  older  church  that  occupied  the  site. 

Another  interesting  monument  of  past  greatness  was 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  erected  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and 

73 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

containing  a  large  collection  of  modern  paintings  by 
French  and  Belgian  artists.  Of  this  structure  not  a  trace 
remains  save  a  vast  blackened  pile  of  crumbled  stones  and 
mortar.  In  the  market-place  now  roam  bands  of  half- 
starved  dogs  in  search  of  food ;  not  a  roof  remains  intact. 
A  couple  of  sentries  pace  before  the  hospital  at  the  end  of 
the  Grand'  Place.  A  recent  photograph  in  the  Illustrated 
London  News  taken  from  an  aeroplane  shows  the  ruined 
town  like  a  vast  honeycomb  uncovered,  the  streets  and 
squares  filled  with  debris,  the  fragments  of  upstanding 
walls  showing  where  a  few  months  ago  dwelt  in  peace  and 
prosperity  an  innocent,  happy  people,  now  scattered  to 
the  four  winds  —  paupers,  subsisting  upon  charity. 
Their  valiant  and  noble  king  and  queen  are  living  with 
the  remnant  of  the  Belgian  army  in  the  small  fishing  vil- 
lage of  La  Panne  on  the  sand  dunes  of  the  North  Sea. 

The  unique  character  of  the  half-forgotten  town  was 
exemplified  by  the  number  of  ancient,  wooden-faced 
houses  to  be  found  in  the  side  streets.  The  most  curious 
of  these,  perhaps,  was  that  situated  near  the  Porte  de 
Lille,  which  I  have  mentioned  in  another  page,  and  which 
noted  architects  of  Brussels  and  Antwerp  vainly  peti- 
tioned the  State  to  protect,  or  to  remove  bodily  the  facade 
and  erect  it  in  one  of  the  vast  "  Salles "  of  the  Cloth 
Hall.  Both  MM.  Pauwels  and  Delbeke,  the  mural  paint- 
ers, then  engaged  in  the  decorations  of  the  Cloth  Hall, 

74 


YPRES 

joined  in  protests  to  the  authorities  against  their  neglect 
of  this  remarkable  example  of  medieval  construction,  but 
all  these  petitions  were  pigeonholed,  and  nothing  re- 
sulted but  vain  empty  promises,  so  the  matter  rested,  and 
now  this  beautiful  house  has  vanished  forever. 

The  great  mural  decorations  of  the  "  Halles  "  were 
nearly  completed  by  MM.  Delbeke  and  Pauwels,  when 
they  both  died  within  a  few  months  of  each  other,  in 
1891.  In  these  decorations  the  artists  traced  the  history 
of  Ypres  from  1 187  to  1383,  the  date  of  the  great  siege, 
showing  taste  and  elegance  in  the  compositions,  notably 
in  that  called  the  "  Wedding  feast  of  Mahaut,  daughter 
of  Robert  of  Bethune,  with  Mathias  of  Lorraine  ( 1314) ." 

One  of  the  panels  by  M.  Pauwels  showed  most  vividly 
the  progress  of  the  "  Pest,"  under  the  title  of  the  "  Mort 
d'Ypres  "  (de  Dood  van  Yperen,  Flemish) .  It  repre- 
sented the  "  Fossoyeur  "  calling  upon  the  citizens  upon 
the  tolling  of  the  great  bell  of  St.  Martin's,  to  bring  out 
their  dead  for  burial. 

M.  Delbeke's  talent  was  engaged  upon  scenes  illus- 
trating the  civil  life  of  the  town,  the  gatherings  in  cele- 
bration of  the  philanthropic  and  intellectual  events  in  its 
remarkable  history,  a  task  in  which  he  was  successful  in 
spite  of  the  carping  of  envious  contemporaries. 

A  committee  of  artists  was  appointed  to  examine  his 
work,  and  although  this  body  decided  in  his  favor,  it  may 

IS 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

be  that  the  criticism  to  which  he  was  subjected  hastened 
his  death.  At  any  rate  the  panels  remained  unfinished, 
no  other  painter  having  the  courage  to  carry  out  the 
projected  work. 

The  original  sketches  for  these  great  compositions  were 
preserved  in  the  museum  of  the  town,  but  the  detailed 
drawings,  some  in  color,,  were,  up  to  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  in  1914,  in  the  Museum  of  Decorative  Arts  in  Brus- 
sels, together  with  the  cartoons  of  another  artist,  Charles 
de  Groux  (1870),  to  whom  the  decoration  of  the  Halles 
had  been  awarded  by  the  State  in  competition.  A  most 
sumptuous  Gothic  apartment  was  that  styled  the  "  Salle 
Echevinale,"  restored  with  great  skill  in  recent  years  by  a 
concurrence  of  Flemish  artists,  members  of  the  Academy. 
Upon  either  side  of  a  magnificent  stone  mantel,  bearing 
statues  in  niches  of  kings,  counts  and  countesses,  bishops 
and  high  dignitaries,  were  large  well  executed  frescoes  by 
MM.  Swerts  and  Guffens,  showing  figures  of  the  evange- 
lists St.  Mark  and  St.  John,  surrounded  by  myriads  of 
counts  and  countesses  of  Flanders,  from  the  time  of  Louis 
de  Nevers  and  Margaret  of  Artois  to  Charles  the  Bold, 
and  Margaret  of  York,  whose  tombs  are  in  the  Cathedral 
at  Bruges.  The  attribution  of  these  frescoes  to  Melchior 
Broederlam  does  not,  it  would  seem,  accord  with  the  style 
or  the  date  of  their  production,  M.  Alph.  van  den  Peere- 

76 


Arcade  <>f  the  Cloth  Hall:    Ypret 


havin. 


e  grr 
:  in  the  museum  or  the  to 
>me  in  color, 
4.,  in  the  I\ 
ier  with  th 
(1870),  to 
iwarded  b 
.ous  Gothi< 

e  of  Flemish 
tier  side  of  a  m 
liches  of  king 


>  and  countesses,  bishops 


:  ies,  were  large  well  executed  f resi  ■ 
and  Guffens,  showing  figures  of  the  evar 
i  St.  John,  surrounded  by  myr 
of  Flanders,  from  the  tim 
et  of  Artois  to  Char 
hose  tombs  are  ii 
of  thest  • 
.  it  wo; 


pfi  /"xti 


den 


H  A\»V)  w\\  '['■ 


"V 


v  V^ 


/btes.     r 

ht«M'l<e. 


'^w— US 


-r 


YPRES 

boom  thinks,  and  he  gives  credit  for  the  work  to  two 
painters  who  worked  in  Ypres  in  1468  —  MM.  Pennant 
and  Floris  Untenhoven. 

In  my  search  for  the  curious  and  picturesque,  I  came, 
one  showery  day,  upon  a  passageway  beneath  the  old 
belfry  which  led  to  the  tower  of  St.  Martin's.  Here  one 
might  believe  himself  back  in  the  Middle  Ages.  On  both 
sides  of  the  narrow  street  were  ancient  wooden-fronted 
houses  not  a  whit  less  interesting  or  well  preserved  than 
that  front  erected  in  the  chamber  of  the  "  Halles."  This 
small  dark  street  led  to  a  vast  and  solitary  square.  On 
one  side  were  lofty  edifices  called  the  Colonnade  of  the 
"  Nieuwerck,"  at  the  end  of  which  was  a  quaint  vista  of 
the  Grand'  Place.  On  the  other  side  was  a  range  of 
most  wondrous  ancient  constructions;  the  conciergerie 
and  its  attendant  offices,  bearing  finials  and  gables  of 
astonishing  richness  of  character,  and  ornamented  with 
chefs-d'ceuvres  of  iron-work,  marking  the  dates  of  erec- 
tion, all  of  them  prior  to  1616.  In  this  square  not  a  soul 
appeared,  nor  was  there  a  sound  to  be  heard  save  the  coo- 
ing of  some  doves  upon  a  rooftree,  although  I  sat  there 
upon  a  stone  coping  for  the  better  part  of  a  half  hour. 
Then  all  at  once,  out  of  a  green  doorway  next  the  con- 
ciergerie, poured  a  throng  of  children,  whose  shrill  cries 
and  laughter  brought  me  back  to  the  present.    One  won- 

77 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

ders  where  now  are  these  merry  light-hearted  little  ones, 
who  thronged  that  gray  grass-grown  square  behind  the  old 
Cloth  Hall  in  1912.  .  .  . 

In  this  old  square  I  studied  the  truly  magnificent  south 
portal  and  transept  of  St.  Martin's,  the  triple  portal 
with  its  splendid  polygonal  rose  window,  and  its  two 
graceful  slender  side  towers,  connecting  a  long  gallery 
between  the  two  smaller  side  portals.  One's  impression 
of  this  great  edifice  is  that  of  a  sense  of  noble  proportions, 
rather  than  ornateness,  and  this  is  to  be  considered  re- 
markable when  one  remembers  the  different  epochs  of  its 
construction.  That  the  choir  was  commenced  in  1221  is 
established  by  the  epitaph  of  Hugues,  prevot  of  St.  Mar- 
tin's, whose  ashes  reposed  in  the  church  which  he  built: 
that  the  first  stone  of  the  nave  transepts  was  laid  with 
ceremony  by  Marguerite  of  Constantinople  in  1254;  that 
the  south  portal  was  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  that  a 
century  later  the  chapel  called  the  doyen  toward  the  south 
wall  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  was  erected.  The  tower 
itself,  visible  from  all  parts  of  the  town,  was  the  con- 
ception of  Martin  Untenhoven  of  Malines,  and  re- 
placed a  more  primitive  one  in  1433.  Of  very  severe 
character,  its  great  bare  bulk  rose  to  an  unfinished  height 
of  some  hundred  and  seventy  feet,  and  terminated  in  a 
squatty  sort  of  pent-house  roof  of  typical  Flemish  char- 

78 


YPRES 

acter.  It  was  flanked  by  four  smaller,  unfinished  towers, 
one  at  each  corner.  This  tower,  one  may  recall,  figures  in 
many  of  the  pictures  of  Jean  van  Eyck.  It  is  not  without 
reason  that  Schayes,  in  his  "  Histoire  de  l'Architecture  en 
Belgique,"  speaks  of  the  choir  of  St.  Martin's  as  "  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  of  the  religious  constructions  of  the 
epoch  in  Belgium."  Of  most  noble  lines  and  proportion 
if  it  were  not  for  the  intruding  altar  screen  in  the  Jesuit 
style,  which  mars  the  effect,  the  ensemble  were  well-nigh 
perfect. 

Its  decoration,  too,  was  remarkable.  A  fresco  at  the 
left  of  the  choir,  with  a  portrait  of  Robert  de  Bethune, 
Count  of  Flanders,  who  died  at  Ypres  in  1322  and  was 
buried  in  the  church,  was  uncovered  early  in  the  eighties 
during  a  restoration ;  this  had  been  most  villainously  re- 
painted by  a  local  "  artist  "  (?) ;  and  I  mortally  offended 
the  young  priest  who  showed  it  to  me,  by  the  vehemence 
of  my  comments. 

The  stalls  of  the  choir,  in  two  banks  or  ranges,  twenty- 
seven  above,  twenty-four  below,  bore  the  date  of  1 5:98, 
and  the  signature  of  d'Urbain  Taillebert,  a  native  sculp- 
tor of  great  merit,  who  also  carved  the  great  Jube 
of  Dixmude  (see  drawing) .  Other  works  of  Taillebert 
are  no  less  remarkable,  notably  the  superb  arcade  with 
the  Christ  triumphant  suspended  between  the  columns  at 

79 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

the  principal  entrance.  He  was  also  the  sculptor  of  the 
mausoleum  of  Bishop  Antoine  de  Hennin,  erected  in 
1622  in  the  choir. 

In  the  pavement  before  the  altar  a  plain  stone  marked 
the  resting  place  of  the  famous  Corneille  Jansen  (Cor- 
nelius Jansenius),  seventh  Bishop  of  Ypres,  who  died 
of  the  pest  the  6th  of  May,  1638.  One  recalls  that  the 
doctrine  of  Jansen  gave  birth  to  the  sect  of  that  name 
which  still  flourishes  in  Holland. 

Following  the  Rue  de  Lille  one  came  upon  the  old 
tower  of  St.  Pierre,  massed  among  tall  straight  lines  of 
picturesque  poplars,  its  bulk  recalling  vaguely  the  belfry 
of  the  Cloth  Hall.  In  this  church  was  shown  a  curious 
little  picture,  representing  the  devil  setting  fire  to  the 
tower,  which  was  destroyed  in  1638,  but  was  later  rebuilt 
after  the  original  plans.  The  interior  had  no  dignity 
of  style  whatever.  There  were,  however,  some  figures  of 
the  saints  Peter  and  Paul  attributed  to  Carel  Van  Yper, 
which  merited  the  examination  of  connoisseurs.  They 
are  believed  by  experts  to  have  been  the  "  volets  "  of  a 
triptych  of  which  the  center  panel  was  missing. 

The  Place  St.  Pierre  was  picturesque  and  smiling.  Fol- 
lowing this  route  we  found  on  the  right  at  the  end  of  a 
small  street  the  hospital  St.  Jean,  with  an  octagonal 
tower,  which  enshrined  some  pictures  attributed  to  the 
prolific  Carel  Van  Yper,  comment  upon  which  would  be 

80 


Gateway,  Wall,  and  (>l<l  Moat:    Yprcs 


YPRES 

perhaps  out  of  place  here.  On  the  corner  of  this  street 
was  a  most  charming  old  facade  in  process  of  demolish- 
ment,  which  we  deplored. 

Now  we  reached  the  Porte  de  Lille  again  and  the  re- 
mains of  the  old  walls  of  the  town.  Again  and  again 
we  followed  this  same  route,  each  time  finding  some  new 
beauty  or  hidden  antiquity  which  well  repaid  us  for  such 
persistence.  Few  of  the  towns  of  Flanders  presented 
such  treasures  as  were  to  be  found  in  Ypres.  Follow- 
ing the  walk  on  the  ramparts,  past  the  caserne  or  infan- 
try barracks,  one  came  upon  the  place  of  the  ancient 
chateau  of  the  counts,  a  vast  construction  under  the  name 
of  "  de  Zaalhof."  Here  was  an  antique  building  called 
the  "Lombard,"  dated  1616,  covered  with  old  iron 
"  ancres  "  and  crosses  between  the  high  small-paned  win- 
dows. 

By  the  Rue  de  Beurre  one  regained  the  Grand'  Place, 
passing  through  the  silent  old  Place  Van  den  Peereboom 
in  the  center  of  which  was  the  statue  of  the  old  Burgo- 
master of  that  name. 

The  aspect  of  this  silent  grass-grown  square  behind 
the  Cloth  Hall  was  most  impressive.  Here  thronged  the 
burghers  of  old,  notably  on  the  occasion  of  the  entry  of 
Charles  the  Bold  and  his  daughter  Marguerite,  all  clad 
in  fur,  lace,  and  velvet  to  astonish  the  inhabitants,  who 
instead  of  being  impressed,  so  outshone  the  visitors,  by 

81 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

their  own  and  their  wives'  magnificence  of  apparel,  that 
Marguerite  was  reported  to  have  left  the  banquet  hall  in 
pique.  The  belfry  quite  dominated  the  square  at  the 
eastern  angle,  where  were  the  houses  forming  the  concier- 
gerie. 

Turning  to  the  right  by  way  of  the  Chemin  de  St.  Mar- 
tin, one  found  the  ancient  Beguinage  latterly  used  by  the 
gendarmerie  as  a  station,  the  lovely  old  chapel  turned 
into  a  stable !  In  this  old  town  were  hundreds  of  remark- 
able ancient  houses,  each  of  which  merits  description  in 
this  book.  But  perhaps  in  this  brief  and  very  fragmen- 
tary description  the  reader  may  find  reason  for  the  au- 
thor's enthusiasm,  and  agree  with  him  that  Ypres  was 
perhaps  the  most  unique  and  interesting  of  all  the  de- 
stroyed towns  in  Flanders. 


82 


(gotmws 


(Jomnuttfs 


1£fT  was  not  hard  to  realize  that  here  we  were  in  the 
country  of  Bras-de-Fer,  of  Memling,  of  Cuyp,  and 
}**  Thierry  d' Alsace,  for,  on  descending  from  the  halt- 
ing, bumping  train  at  the  small  brick  station,  we  were 
face  to  face  with  a  bizarre,  bulbous-topped  tower  rising 
above  the  houses  surrounding  a  small  square,  and  now 
quite  crowded  with  large,  hollow-backed,  thick-legged 
Flemish  horses,  which  might  have  been  those  of  the  fol- 
lowers of  Thierry  gathered  in  preparation  for  an  on- 
slaught upon  one  of  the  neighboring  towns. 

It  seemed  as  though  any  turning  might  bring  us  face  to 
face  with  a  grim  cohort  of  mounted  armed  men  in  steel 
corselet  and  morion,  bearing  the  banner  of  Spanish  Philip, 
so  sinister  were  the  narrow,  ill-paved  streets,  darkened  by 
the  projecting  second  stories  of  the  somber,  gray-stone 
houses.  Rarely  was  there  an  open  door  or  window.  As 
we  passed,  our  footsteps  on  the  uneven  stones  awakened 
the  echoes.  A  fine  drizzle  of  rain  which  began  to  fall 
upon  us  from  the  leaden  sky  did  not  tend  to  enliven  us, 
and  we  hastened  toward  the  small  Grand'  Place,  where  I 

85 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

noted  on  a  sign  over  a  doorway  the  words,  "  In  de  Leeuw 
Van  Vlanderen  "  (To  the  Flemish  Lion) ,  which  promised 
at  least  shelter  from  the  rainfall.  Here  we  remained  un- 
til the  sun  shone  forth. 

Commines  (Flemish,  Komen)  was  formerly  a  fortified 
town  of  some  importance  in  the  period  of  the  Great  Wars 
of  Flanders.  It  was  the  birthplace  of  Philip  de  Com- 
mines (1445-1509).  It  was,  so  to  say,  one  of  the  iron 
hinges  upon  which  the  great  military  defense  system  of 
the  burghers  swung  and  creaked  in  those  dark  days.  To- 
day, in  these  rich  fields  about  the  small  town,  one  can  find 
no  traces  of  the  old-time  bastions  which  so  well  guarded 
the  town  from  Van  Artevelde's  assaults.  Inside  the 
town  were  scarcely  any  trees,  an  unusual  feature  for 
Flanders,  and  on  the  narrow  waterways  floated  but  few 
craft. 

The  only  remarkable  thing  by  virtue  of  its  Renaissance 
style  of  architecture  was  the  belfry  and  clock  tower,  al- 
though some  of  the  old  Flemish  dwelling  houses  in  the 
market  square,  projecting  over  an  ogival  Colonnade  ex- 
tending round  one  end  of  the  square,  and  covering  a  sort 
of  footway,  were  of  interest,  uplifting  their  step-like 
gables  as  a  silent  but  eloquent  protest  against  a  posterity 
devoid  of  style,  all  of  them  to  the  right  and  left  falling 
into  line  like  two  wings  of  stone  in  order  to  allow  the 
carved  front  of  the  belfry  to  make  a  better  show,  and  its 

86 


COMMINES 

pinnacled  tower  to  rise  the  prouder  against  the  sky. 

"  One  was  struck  with  the  ascendency  of  the  religious 
element  over  all  forms  of  art,  and  this  was  a  characteristic 
of  the  Flemings.  One  was  everywhere  confronted  with 
a  curious  union  of  religion  and  war,  representations  peo- 
pled exclusively  by  seraphic  beings  surrounded  or  accom- 
panied by  armed  warriors.  Everything  is  adoration,  res- 
ignation, incense  fumes,  psalmody,  and  crusaders.  The 
greatest  buildings  we  saw  were  ecclesiastical,  the  richest 
dresses  were  church  vestments,  even  "  the  princes  and 
burghers  accompanied  by  armed  knights  remind  one  of 
ecclesiastics  celebrating  the  Mass.  All  the  women  are 
holy  virgins,  seemingly.  The  chasm  between  the  ideal 
and  the  reality  itself,  however  idealized,  but  by  medita- 
tion manifested  pictorially."  ("  The  Land  of  Rubens," 
C.  B.  Huet) . 

We  sat  for  an  hour  in  the  small,  sooty,  tobacco-smelling 
estaminet  (from  the  Spanish  estamento  —  an  inn),  and 
then  the  skies  clearing  somewhat  we  fared  forth  to  ex- 
plore the  belfry,  which  in  spite  of  its  sadly  neglected 
state  was  still  applied  to  civic  use.  Some  dark,  heavy, 
oaken  beams  in  the  ceiling  of  the  principal  room  showed 
delicately  carved,  fancy  heads,  some  of  them  evidently 
portraits.  At  the  rear  of  the  tower  on  the  ground  floor, 
I  came  upon  a  vaulted  apartment  supported  on  columns, 
and  being  used  as  a  storehouse.    Its  construction  was  so 

87 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

handsome,  it  was  so  beautifully  lighted  from  without, 
as  to  make  one  grieve  for  its  desecration;  it  may  have 
served  in  the  olden  time  as  a  refectory,  and  if  so  was 
doubtless  the  scene  of  great  festivity  in  the  time  of  Philip 
de  Commines,  who  was  noted  for  the  magnificence  of  his 
entertainments. 

The  Flemish  burghers  of  the  Middle  Ages  first  built 
themselves  a  church;  when  that  was  finished,  a  great  hall. 
That  of  Ypres  took  more  than  two  hundred  years  to  com- 
plete. How  long  this  great  tower  of  Commines  took,  I 
can  only  conjecture.  Its  semi-oriental  pear-shaped  (or 
onion-shaped,  as  you  will)  tower  was  certainly  of  great 
antiquity;  even  the  unkempt  little  priest  whom  I  ques- 
tioned in  the  Grand'  Place  could  give  me  little  or  no  in- 
formation concerning  it.  Indeed,  he  seemed  to  be  on  the 
point  of  resenting  my  questions,  as  though  he  thought  that 
I  was  in  some  way  poking  fun  at  him.  I  presume  that  it 
was  the  scene  of  great  splendor  in  their  early  days.  For 
here  a  count  of  Flanders  or  a  duke  of  Brabant  exercised 
sovereign  rights,  and  at  such  a  ceremony  as  the  laying  of  a 
corner-stone  assumed  the  place  of  honor,  although  the 
real  authority  was  with  the  burghers,  and  founded  upon 
commerce.  While  granting  this  privilege,  the  Flemings 
ever  hated  autocracy.  They  loved  pomp,  but  any  at- 
tempt to  exercise  power  over  them  infuriated  them. 

"  The  architecture  of  the  Fleming  was  the  expression  of 

88 


The  U 


^J 


\  ft 


r  •  R 


s 


W 


COMMINES 

aspiration,"  says  C.  B.  Huet  ("  The  Land  of  Rubens  ") . 

"  The  Flemish  hall  has  often  the  form  of  a  church;  art 
history,  aiming  at  classification,  ranges  it  among  the 
Gothic  by  reason  of  its  pointed  windows.  The  Hall  us- 
ually is  a  defenceless  feudal  castle  without  moats,  with- 
out porticullis,  without  loopholes.  It  occupies  the  cen- 
ter of  a  market-place.  It  is  a  temple  of  peace,  its  win- 
dows are  as  numerous  as  those  in  the  choirs  of  that  con- 
secrated to  the  worship  of  God. 

"  From  the  center  of  the  building  uprises  an  enormous 
mass,  three,  four,  five  stories  high,  as  high  as  the  cathedral, 
perhaps  higher.  It  is  the  belfry,  the  transparent  habita- 
tion of  the  alarm  bell  (as  well  as  the  chimes) .  The  bel- 
fry cannot  defend  itself,  a  military  character  is  foreign  to 
it.  But  as  warden  of  civic  liberty  it  can,  at  the  approach 
of  domination  from  without,  or  autocracy  uplifting  its 
head  within,  awaken  the  threatened  ones,  and  call  them 
to  arms  in  its  own  defence.  The  belfry  is  thus  a  symbol 
of  a  society  expecting  happiness  from  neither  a  dynasty 
nor  from  a  military  despotism,  but  solely  from  common 
institutions,  from  commerce  and  industry,  from  a  citizen's 
life,  budding  in  the  shadow  of  the  peaceful  church,  and 
borrowing  its  peaceful  architecture  from  it.  To  the  town 
halls  of  Flanders  belonged  the  place  of  honor  among  the 
monuments  of  Belgian  architecture.  No  other  country 
of  Europe  offered  so  rich  a  variety  in  that  respect. 

89 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

"  Courtrai  replaces  Arras;  Oudenaarde  and  Ypres  fol- 
low suit.  Then  come  Tournai,  Bruges,  Ghent,  Ant- 
werp, Brussels,  Louvain.  Primary  Gothic,  secondary 
Gothic,  tertiary  Gothic,  satisfying  every  wish.  Flanders 
and  Brabant  called  the  communal  style  into  life.  If  ever 
Europe  becomes  a  commune,  the  communards  have  but  to 
go  to  Ypres  to  find  motifs  from  their  architects." 

Since  this  was  written,  in  1914,  many,  if  not  most,  of 
these  great  buildings  thus  enumerated  above,  are  now  in 
ruins,  utterly  destroyed  for  all  time ! 


90 


B?w* 


Btfgutt 


f^f  TINY  sleepy  town  among  the  fringe  of  great  wil- 
MM  low  trees  which  marked  the  site  of  the  ancient 
J^F  walls.  Belted  by  its  crumbling  ramparts,  and  like 
a  quaint  gem  set  in  the  green  enamel  of  the  smiling  land- 
scape, it  offered  a  resting  place  far  from  the  cares  and 
noise  of  the  world. 

Quite  ignored  by  the  guide  books,  it  had,  I  found,  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  belfries  to  be  found  in  the  Nether- 
lands, and  a  chime  of  sweet  bells,  whose  melodious  sounds 
haunted  our  memories  for  days  after  our  last  visit  in  1910. 

There  were  winding,  silent  streets  bordered  by  mys- 
teriously closed  and  shuttered  houses,  but  mainly  these 
were  small  and  of  the  peasant  order.  On  the  Grand' 
Place,  for  of  course  there  was  one,  the  tower  sprang  from 
a  collection  of  rather  shabby  buildings,  of  little  or  no 
character,  but  this  did  not  seem  to  detract  from  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  great  tower.  I  use  the  word  "  great " 
too  often,  I  fear,  but  can  find  no  other  word  in  the  lan- 
guage to  qualify  these  "  Campanili  "  of  Flanders. 

This  one  was  embellished  with  what  are  known  as 

93 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

"  ogival  arcatures,"  arranged  in  zones  or  ranks,  and  there 
were  four  immense  turrets,  one  at  each  corner,  these  be- 
ing in  turn  covered  with  arcatures  of  the  same  character. 
These  flanked  the  large  open-work,  gilded,  clock  face. 
Surmounting  this  upon  a  platform  was  a  construction  in 
the  purely  Flemish  style,  containing  the  chime  of  bells, 
and  the  machinery  of  the  carillon,  and  topping  all  was 
a  sort  of  inverted  bulb  or  gourd-shaped  turret,  covered 
with  blue  slate,  with  a  gilded  weathervane  about  which 
the  rooks  flew  in  clouds. 

The  counterpart  of  this  tower  was  not  to  be  found  any- 
where in  the  Netherlands,  and  one  is  surprised  that  it 
was  so  little  known. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  our  visit  the  town  was  given  up 
to  the  heavy  and  stolid  festivities  of  the  "  Kermesse," 
which  is  now  of  interest  here  only  to  the  laboring  class  and 
the  small  farmers  of  the  region.  The  center  of  attrac- 
tion, as  we  found  in  several  other  towns,  seemed  to  be 
an  incredibly  fat  woman  emblazoned  on  a  canvas  as  the 
:'  Belle  Heloise  "  who  was  seated  upon  a  sort  of  throne 
draped  in  red  flannel,  and  exhibited  a  pair  of  extremities 
resembling  in  size  the  masts  of  a  ship,  to  the  great  won- 
der of  the  peasants.  There  were  also  some  shabby 
merry-go-rounds  with  wheezy  organs  driven  by  machin- 
ery, and  booths  in  which  hard-featured  show  women  were 
frying  waffles  in  evil  smelling  grease.    After  buying  some 

94 


'/'//<•  Towers  of  St.   Wmoc:    Berguea 


rranged 

the  large  opei 

pon  a  p 
n  sh  styl< 
.    lunery  of  the 
verted  bulb  01 
1  blue  slate,  wit! 
ks  flew  in  c 
The  counterpart  of 
in  the  Netherla; 
little  known. 

the  occasion  of  0 
heavy  and  stolid  i  Cermess< 

1  >w  of  interest  here  oi  1  ring  class  and 

farmers  of  the  r<  The  center  of  attr 

nd  in  several  other  towns,  seemed  b 
fat  woman  emblazoned  on  a  canvas  as  I 
who  was  seated  upon 
1  el,  and  exhibited  a  pair 
the  masts  of  a  ship. 
There   wer 


liard-featu 


f'Srf 


■f 


j 


in, 


•V 


r 


„W«t+m  1JU 


BERGUES 

of  these  for  the  children  who  stood  about  with  watering 
mouths,  we  left  the  "  Kermesse  "  and  wandered  away 
down  a  silent  street  towards  a  smaller  tower  rising  from 
a  belt  of  dark  trees. 

This  we  found  to  be  the  remains  of  the  ancient  abbey  of 
St.  Winoc.  A  very  civil  mannered  young  priest  who 
overtook  us  on  the  road  informed  us  of  this,  and  volun- 
teered further  the  information  that  we  were  in  what  was 
undoubtedly  the  ancient  jardin-clos  of  the  Abbey.  Of 
this  retreat  only  the  two  towers  standing  apart  in  the 
long  grass  remained,  one  very  heavy  and  square,  sup- 
ported by  great  buttresses  of  discolored  brick,  the  other  oc- 
tangular, in  stages,  and  retaining  its  high  graceful  stee- 
ple. 

We  were  unable  to  gain  entrance  to  either  of  these  tow- 
ers, the  doorways  being  choked  with  weeds  and  the  debris 
of  fallen  masonry.  [The  invaders  destroyed  both  of  these 
fine  historical  remains  in  November,  1914,  alleging  that 
they  were  being  used  for  military  observation  by  the  Bel- 
gian army.]  These  small  towns  of  Flanders  had  a  simple 
dignity  of  their  own  which  was  of  great  attraction  to  the 
tourist,  who  could,  without  disillusionment,  imagine  him- 
self back  in  the  dim  past.  In  the  wayside  inns  or  estami- 
nets  one  could  extract  amusement  and  profit  listening  to 
the  peasantry  or  admiring  the  sunlight  dancing  upon  the 
array  of  bottles  and  glass  on  the  leaden  counters,  or  watch 

95 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

the  peasants  kneel  and  cross  themselves  before  the  invari- 
able quaint  niched  figure  of  the  Virgin  and  Child  under 
the  hanging  lighted  lantern  at  a  street  corner,  the  evi- 
dence of  the  piety  of  the  village,  or  the  throngs  of  lace- 
capped,  rosy-cheeked  milkmaids  with  small  green  carts 
drawn  by  large,  black,  "  slobbering  "  dogs  of  fierce  mien, 
from  the  distant  farms,  on  their  way  to  market. 

Thus  the  everyday  life  of  the  region  was  rendered 
poetic  and  artistic,  and  all  with  the  most  charming  uncon- 
sciousness. 


96 


JWnprt 


fttaprt 


aN  the  midst  of  a  level  field  to  the  east  of  the  town 
of  Nieuport  in  1914  was  a  high  square  weather- 
beaten  tower,  somewhat  ruinous,  built  of  stone  and 
brick  in  strata,  showing  the  different  eras  of  construction 
in  the  various  colors  of  the  brick  work  ranging  from  light 
reds  to  dark  browns  and  rich  blacks.  This  tower,  half 
built  and  square  topped,  belonged  to  a  structure  be- 
gun in  the  twelfth  century,  half  monastery,  half  church, 
erected  by  the  Templars  as  a  stronghold.  Repeatedly  at- 
tacked and  set  on  fire,  it  escaped  complete  destruction,  al- 
though nearly  laid  in  ruins  by  the  English  and  burghers 
of  Ghent  in  1 383,  the  year  of  the  famous  siege  of  Ypres. 
During  the  Wars  of  1600,  it  was  an  important  part  of 
the  fortifications,  and  from  the  platform  of  its  tower  the 
Spanish  garrison  commanded  a  clear  view  of  the  surround- 
ing country  and  the  distance  beyond  the  broad  moat, 
which  then  surrounded  the  strong  walls  of  Nieuport. 

In  plain  view  from  this  tower  top  were  the  houses  of 
Furnes,  grouped  about  the  church  of  Saint  Nicolas  to  the 

99 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

southwest,  while  to  the  north  the  wide  belt  of  dunes,  or 
sand  hills,  defended  the  plains  from  the  North  Sea. 
Nearer  were  the  populous  villages  of  Westende  and  Lom- 
baerd-Zyde,  connected  with  Nieuport  by  numerous  small 
lakes  and  canals  derived  from  the  channel  of  the  Yser 
river,  which  flowed  past  the  town  on  its  way  to  the  sea. 
The  history  of  Nieuport,  from  the  terrible  days  of  the 
Spanish  invasion  down  to  these  days  of  even  worse  fate, 
has  been  pitiable.  Its  former  sea  trade  after  the  Spanish 
invasion  was  never  recovered,  and  its  population,  which 
was  beginning  to  be  thrifty  and  prosperous  up  to  1914, 
has  now  entirely  disappeared.  Nieuport  is  now  in  ashes 
and  ruins.  When  I  passed  the  day  there  in  the  summer 
of  1910,  it  was  a  sleepy,  quiet  spot,  a  small  fishing  village, 
with  old  men  and  women  sitting  in  doorways  and  on  the 
waysides,  mending  nets,  and  knitting  heavy  woolen  socks 
or  sweaters  of  dark  blue.  In  the  small  harbor  were  the 
black  hulls  of  fishing  boats  tied  up  to  the  quaysides,  and 
a  small  steamer  from  Ghoole  was  taking  on  a  cargo  of 
potatoes  and  beets.  Some  barges  laden  with  wood  were 
being  pulled  through  the  locks  by  men  harnessed  to  a  long 
tow  rope,  and  a  savage  dog  on  one  of  these  barges  men- 
aced me  with  dripping  fangs  and  bloodshot  eyes  when  I 
stopped  to  talk  to  the  steersman,  who  sat  on  the  tiller 
smoking  a  short,  evil-smelling  pipe,  while  his  "  vrouwe  " 
was  hanging  out  a  heavy  wash  of  vari-colored  garments 

100 


The  Tower  of  the  Templars:   Nieuport 


NIEUPORT 

on  a  line  from  the  staff  on  the  bow  to  a  sweep  fastened 
upright  to  the  cabin  wall. 

The  ancient  fortification  had  long  since  disappeared  — 
those   "impregnable  walls  of  stone"   which  once   de- 
fended the  town  from  the  assaults  of  Philip  the  Second. 
I  found  with  some  difficulty  a  few  grass-grown  mounds 
where  they  had  been,  and  only  the  gray,  grim  tower  of  the 
Templars,  standing  solitary  in  a  turnip  field,  remained  to 
show  what  had  been  a  mighty  stronghold.    In  the  town, 
however,  were  souvenirs  enough  to  occupy  an  antiquary 
for  years  to  his  content  and  profit.    There  was  the  Cloth 
Hall,  with  its  five  pointed  low  arched  doorways  from 
which  passed  in  and  out  the  Knights  of  the  Temple 
gathered  for  the  first  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land.    On 
this  market  square  too  was  the  great  Gothic  Church,  one  of 
the  largest  and  most  important  in  all  Flanders,  and  on  this 
afternoon  in  the  summer  of  1910,  I  attended  a  service 
here,  while  in  the  tower  a  bell  ringer  played  the  chime 
of  famous  bells  which  now  lie  in  broken  fragments  amid 
the  ashes  of  the  fallen  tower. 

Here  was  fought  the  bloody  "  Battle  of  the  Dunes," 
between  the  Dutch  and  the  Spaniards  in  those  dim  days 
of  long  ago,  when  the  stubborn  determination  of  the  Neth- 
erlander overcame  the  might  and  fiery  valor  of  the  Span- 
ish invaders. 
From  time  to  time  the  peasants  laboring  in  the  fields  un- 

101 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

covered  bones,  broken  steel  breast-plates,  and  weapons, 
which  they  brought  to  the  museum  on  the  Grand'  Place, 
and  which  the  sleepy  custode  showed  me  with  reluctance, 
until  I  offered  him  a  franc.  It  is  curious  that  famous 
Nieuport,  for  which  so  much  blood  was  shed  in  those  early 
days,  should  again  have  been  a  famous  battle  ground  be- 
tween the  handful  of  valiant  soldiers  of  the  heroic  King 
Albert  and  a  mighty  Teutonic  foe. 

The  dim  gray  town  with  its  silent  streets,  the  one  time 
home  of  romance  and  chivalry,  the  scene  of  deeds  of 
knightly  valor,  is  now  done  for  forever.  It  is  not 
likely  that  it  can  ever  again  be  of  importance,  for  its  har- 
bor is  well-nigh  closed  by  drifting  sand.  But  I  shall 
always  keep  the  vision  I  had  of  it  that  summer  day,  in  its 
market  place,  its  gabled  houses  against  the  luminous  sky, 
its  winding  streets,  and  narrow  byways  across  which  the 
roofs  almost  touch  each  other.  The  ancient  palaces  are 
now  in  ruins,  and  the  peaceful  population  scattered 
abroad,  charges  upon  the  charity  of  the  world.  Certainly 
a  woeful  picture  in  contrast  to  the  content  of  other  days. 

The  vast  green  plains  behind  the  dunes,  or  sand  hills, 
extend  unbrokenly  from  here  to  the  French  frontier,  spire 
after  spire  dominating  small  towns,  and  wind-mills,  are 
the  objects  seen.  To  some  the  flatness  is  most  monoto- 
nous, but  to  those  who  find  pleasure  in  the  paintings  of 
Cuyp,  the  country  is  very  picturesque.    The  almost  end- 

102 


The  Town  Hull — Hall  of  the  Knights  Templar:    Nieupori 


i\'A       >l\\     \o     \\u\\         \Wi\\     IVJUi'V       >l\'V 


NIEUPORT 

less  succession  of  green,  well-cultivated  fields  and  farm- 
steads is  most  entertaining,  and  the  many  canals  winding 
their  silvery  ways  through  the  country,  between  rows  of 
pollards;  the  well  kept  though  small  country  houses  em- 
bowered in  woody  enclosures;  the  fruitful  orchards  in 
splendid  cultivation;  the  gardens  filled  with  fair  flowers 
and  the  "  most  compact  little  towns  " —  these  give  the 
region  a  romance  and  attraction  all  its  own. 

Here  and  there  is  a  hoary  church  erected  in  forgotten 
times  on  ground  dedicated  to  Thor  or  Wodin.  This  part 
of  the  country  bordering  the  fifty  mile  stretch  of  coast 
line  on  the  North  Sea  was  given  over  latterly  to  the  popu- 
lous bathing  establishments  and  their  new  communities, 
but  the  other  localities,  such  as  Tournai,  Courtrai,  Ou- 
denaarde  or  Alost,  were  seldom  visited  by  strangers, 
whose  advent  created  almost  as  much  excitement  as  it 
would  in  Timbuctoo.  It  was  not  inaccessible,  but  the 
roads  were  not  good  for  automobiles;  they  were  mainly 
paved  with  rough  "  Belgian  "  blocks  of  stone,  high  in  the 
center,  with  a  dirt  roadway  on  either  side,  used  by  the 
peasants  and  quite  rutty. 

A  walking  tour  for  any  but  the  hardiest  pedestrian  was 
out  of  the  question,  so  I  was  told  that  the  best  way  for  a 
"  bachelor  "  traveler  was  to  secure  transportation  on  the 
canal  boats.  This  was  the  warning  that  our  kind  hearted 
landlord  in  Antwerp  gave  us,  after  vainly  endeavor- 

103 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

ing  to  discourage  us  from  leaving  him  for  such  a  tour. 

The  canals,  however,  are  not  numerous  enough  in  this 
region,  I  found,  and  besides  there  are  various  other  dis- 
advantages which  I  leave  to  the  reader's  imagination. 

In  addition  to  the  main  lines  of  the  State  Railway, 
there  were  what  are  called  "  Chemins-de-fer-vicinaux," 
small  narrow  gauge  railways  which  traversed  Belgium  in 
all  directions.  On  these  the  fares  were  very  reasonable, 
and  they  formed  an  ideal  way  in  which  to  study  the 
country  and  the  people.  There  were  first,  second  and 
third  class  carriages  on  these,  hung  high  on  tall  wheels, 
which  looked  very  unsafe,  but  were  not  really  so.  The 
classes  varied  only  in  the  trimming  of  the  windows,  and 
quality  of  the  cushions  on  the  benches.  Rarely  if  ever, 
were  those  marked  "  I  Klasse  "  used.  Those  of  the  sec- 
ond class  were  used  sometimes;  but  the  third  class  cars 
were  generally  very  crowded  with  peasantry,  who  while 
invariably  good  humored  and  civil  were  certainly  evil 
smelling,  and  intolerant  of  open  windows  and  fresh  air. 
The  men  and  boys  generally  smoked  a  particularly  vile- 
smelling  black  tobacco,  of  which  they  seemed  very  fond, 
and  although  some  of  the  cars  were  marked  "  Niet 
rooken  "  (no  smoking)  no  one  seemed  to  object  to  the 
fumes. 

Here  one  seldom  saw  the  purely  Spanish  type  of  face 
so  usual  in  Antwerp  and  Brabant.    The  race  seemed 

104 


Tower  in  the  dm  ml'  Place:   Nieuport 


• 


*">" 


NIEUPORT 

purer,  and  the  peasants  used  the  pure  Flemish  tongue. 
Few  of  the  elders  I  found  spoke  French  fluently,  although 
the  children  used  it  freely  to  each  other,  of  course  under- 
standing and  speaking  Flemish  also. 

There  were  various  newspapers  published  in  the  Flem- 
ish language  exclusively.  These,  however,  were  very 
primitive,  given  over  entirely  to  purely  local  brevities, 
and  the  prices  of  potatoes,  beets  and  other  commodities, 
and  containing  also  a  "  feuilleton  "  of  interest  to  the 
farmers  and  laborers. 

There  were  several  "  organs  "  of  the  Flemish  Patriotic 
party  devoted  to  the  conservation  and  preservation  of 
the  Flemish  language  and  the  ancient  traditions,  which 
were  powerful  among  the  people,  although  their  circula- 
tion could  not  have  been  very  profitable.  The  peasantry 
in  truth  were  very  ignorant,  and  knew  of  very  little  be- 
yond their  own  parishes.  The  educational  standard  of 
the  people  of  West  Flanders  was  certainly  low,  and  it 
was  a  matter  of  comment  among  the  opponents  of  the  es- 
tablished church,  that  education  being  in  the  hands  of  the 
clergy,  they  invariably  defeated  plans  for  making  it  com- 
pulsory. But  nevertheless,  the  peasantry  were  to  all  ap- 
pearances bothicontented  and  fairly  happy. 

As  their  wants  were  few  and  primitive,  their  living  was 
cheap.  Their  fare  was  coffee,  of  which  they  consumed  a 
great  deal,  black  bread,  salt  pork  and  potatoes.    The  use 

105 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

of  oleomargarine  was  universal  in  place  of  butter.  They 
grew  tobacco  in  their  small  gardens  for  their  own  use, 
and  also,  it  is  whispered,  smuggled  it  [and  gin]  over  the 
border  into  France.  They  worked  hard  and  long  from 
five  in  the  morning  until  seven  or  eight  in  the  evening. 

The  Flemish  farmhouse  was  generally  well  built,  if 
somewhat  untidy  looking,  with  the  pigstys  and  out  build- 
ings in  rather  too  close  proximity  for  comfort.  There 
was  usually  a  large  living  room  with  heavy  sooty  beams 
overhead,  and  thick  walls  pierced  by  quaint  deeply 
sunken  windows  furnished  often  with  seats.  These  pic- 
turesque rooms  often  contained  "  good  finds  "  of  the  old 
Spanish  furniture,  and  brass;  but  as  a  rule  the  dealers  had 
long  since  bought  up  all  the  old  things,  replacing  them  by 
"  brummagem," —  modern  articles  shining  with  cheap 
varnish. 

The  peasants  themselves  in  their  everyday  clothes  cer- 
tainly did  not  impress  the  observer  greatly.  They  were 
not  picturesque,  they  wore  the  sabot  or  "  Klompen,"  yel- 
low varnished,  and  clumsy  in  shape.  Their  stockings 
were  coarse  gray  worsted.  Their  short  trousers  were  us- 
ually tied  with  a  string  above  the  calf,  and  they  wore  a 
sort  of  smock,  sometimes  of  linen  unbleached,  or  of  a  shin- 
ing sort  of  dark  purple  thin  stuff. 

The  usual  headgear  was  for  the  men  a  cap  with  a  glazed 
peak  and  for  the  women  and  girls  a  wide  flapped  em- 

106 


NIEUPORT 

broidered  linen  cap,  but  this  headgear  was  worn  only  in 
the  country  towns  and  villages.  Elsewhere  the  costume 
was  fast  disappearing.  On  Sundays  when  dressed  in 
their  holiday  clothes  these  peasants  going  to  or  returning 
from  mass,  looked  respectable  and  fairly  prosperous,  and 
it  was  certainly  clear  that  although  poor  in  worldly  goods, 
these  animated  and  laughing  throngs  were  far  from  being 
unhappy  or  dissatisfied  with  life  as  they  found  it  in  West 
Flanders. 


107 


Host 


most 


^■fc^HE  ancient  Hotel  de  Ville  on  the  Grand'  Place 
I  LI  was  unique,  not  for  its  great  beauty,  for  it  had 
^■•^  none,  but  for  its  quaintness,  in  the  singular  com- 
bination of  several  styles  of  architecture.  Without  go- 
ing into  any  details  its  attraction  was  in  what  might  be 
called  its  venerable  coquettishness, —  bizarre,  one  might 
have  styled  it,  but  that  the  word  conveys  some  hint  of 
lack  of  dignity.  One  is  at  a  loss  just  how  to  characterize 
its  attractiveness.  Against  the  sky  its  towers  and  min- 
arets held  one's  fancy  by  their  very  lightness  and  airi- 
ness, the  lanterns  and  fieches  presupposing  a  like  grace 
and  proportion  in  the  edifice  below.  The  great  square 
belfry  at  one  side  seemed  to  shoulder  aside  the  structure 
with  its  beautiful  Renaissance  facade  and  portal  and 
quite  dominate  it. 

My  note  book  says  that  it  dated  from  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  its  appearance  certainly  bore  evidence  of 
this  statement.  It  had  been  erected  in  sections  at  various 
periods,  and  these  periods  were  marked  in  the  various 
courses  of  brick,  showing  every  variety  of  tone  of  dull 

ill 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

reds,  buffs,  and  mellow  purplish  browns.  The  effect  was 
quite  delightful.  The  tower  contained  a  fine  carillon  of 
bells  arranged  on  a  rather  bizarre  platform,  giving 
a  most  quaint  effect  to  the  turret  which  surmounted  it. 
The  face  of  the  tower  bore  four  niches,  two  at  each  side 
of  the  center  and  upper  windows,  and  these  contained 
time  worn  statues  of  the  noble  counts  of  Alost.  On  the 
wall  below  was  a  tablet  bearing  the  inscription  "  Ni 
Espoir,  Ni  Craint,"  and  this  I  was  told  referred  either 
to  the  many  sieges  which  the  town  suffered,  or  a  pestilence 
which  depopulated  the  whole  region.  A  huge  gilt  clock 
face  shone  below  the  upper  gallery,  at  each  corner  of 
which  sprang  a  stone  gargoyle. 

The  old  square  upon  which  this  tower  was  placed  was 
quite  in  keeping  with  it.  There  were  rows  of  gabled 
stone  houses  of  great  antiquity,  still  inhabited,  stretch- 
ing away  in  an  array  of  fagades,  gables,  and  most  fan- 
tastic roofs,  all  of  mellow  toned  tile,  brick  and  stone. 

Thierry  Moertens,  who  was  a  renowned  master  printer 
of  the  Netherlands,  was  born  here,  and  is  said  to  have 
established  in  Alost  the  "  very  first  printing  house  in 
Flanders."  From  this  press  issued  a  translation  of  the 
Holy  Bible,  which  was  preserved  in  the  Museum  of  Brus- 
sels, together  with  other  fine  specimens  of  his  skill.  A 
very  good  statue  in  bronze  to  this  master  printer  was  in 
the  center  of  the  market  place,  and  on  the  occasion  of  my 

112 


The  Town  11  oil:    Alost 


laced  v 

led 

ne. 


ALOST 

last  visit,  there  was  a  sort  of  carnival  in  the  town,  with 
a  great  gathering  of  farmers  and  merchants  and  their 
families  from  the  surrounding  country  all  gathered  about 
the  square,  which  was  filled  with  wagons,  horses,  booths, 
and  merry-go-rounds,  above  which  the  statue  of  the  old 
master  printer  appeared  in  great  dignity.  There  was 
a  great  consumption  of  beer  and  waffles  at  the  small 
estaminets,  and  the  chimes  in  the  belfry  played  popu- 
lar songs  at  intervals  to  the  delight  of  these  simple  happy 
people,  all  unaware  of  the  great  catastrophe  of  the  war 
into  which  they  were  about  to  be  plunged. 

A  disastrous  conflagration  destroyed  most  of  Alost  in 
1360,  and  thereafter  history  deals  with  the  fury  of  the 
religious  wars  conducted  by  the  Spanish  against  Alost,  a 
most  strongly  fortified  town.  The  story  of  the  uniting 
of  these  Spanish  troops  under  the  leadership  of  Juan  de 
Navarese  is  well  known.  Burning  and  sacking  and 
murder  were  the  sad  lot  of  Alost  and  its  unfortunate  citi- 
zens, who  had  hardly  recovered,  ere  the  Duke  d'Alencon 
arrived  before  the  walls  with  his  troops,  bent  upon  mis- 
chief. The  few  people  remaining  after  his  onslaught 
died  like  flies  during  the  plague  which  broke  out  the  fol- 
lowing year,  and  the  town  bid  fair  to  vanish  forever. 

Rubens  painted  a  large  and  important  picture  based 
upon  the  destruction  of  Alost,  and  this  work  was  hanging 
in  the  old  church  of  St.  Martin  just  before  the  outbreak 

113 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

of  the  war  in  1914.  Its  fate  is  problematical,  for  St.  Mar- 
tin's Church  was  razed  to  the  ground  in  the  bombard- 
ment in  1914-15,  the  charge  being  the  usual  one  that  the 
tower  was  used  for  military  purposes  by  the  French. 

This  old  church  with  its  curious  bulbous  tower  cap  was 
at  the  end  of  a  small  street,  and  my  last  view  of  it  was 
on  the  occasion  of  a  church  fete  in  which  some  dignitaries 
were  present,  for  I  saw  them  all  clad  in  scarlet  and  pur- 
ple walking  beneath  silken  canopies  attended  by  priests 
bearing  lighted  lanterns  (although  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly  at  the  time)  and  acolytes  swinging  fragrant 
smoking  censers.  We  were  directed  to  a  rather  shabby 
looking  hostelry,  over  the  door  of  which  was  an  embla- 
zoned coat  of  arms  of  Flanders,  where  we  were  assured 
we  could  get  "  dejeuner  "  before  leaving  the  town. 

As  usual,  a  light  drizzle  came  on,  and  the  streets  be- 
came deserted.  The  hotel  was  a  wretched  one  and  the 
meal  furnished  us  was  in  character  with  it.  We  were 
waited  on  by  a  sour,  taciturn  old  man  who  bore  a  dirty 
towel  on  his  arm,  as  a  sort  of  badge  of  office,  I  presume. 
He  nodded  or  shook  his  head  as  the  case  might  demand, 
but  not  a  word  could  I  extract  from  him.  At  the  close 
of  our  meal,  which  we  dallied  over,  waiting  for  the  rain 
to  cease,  I  called  for  the  bill,  which  was  produced  after  a 
long  wait,  and  proved  to  be,  as  I  anticipated,  excessive. 
We  had  coffee  and  hot  milk  and  some  cold  chicken  and 

114 


ALOST 

salad.  This  repast,  for  two,  came  to  twelve  francs.  And 
as  the  "  chicken  "  had  reached  its  old  age  long  before,  and 
the  period  of  its  roasting  must  have  taken  place  at  an  un- 
certain date,  this,  together  with  the  fact  that  the  lettuce 
was  wilted,  placed  these  items  upon  the  proscribed  list 
for  us.  The  coffee  and  hot  milk,  however,  was  good  and, 
thus  revived  and  rested,  I  paid  the  bill  without  protest, 
and  having  retained  the  carriage  which  we  hired  at  the 
station,  I  bundled  our  belongings  into  it.  I  had  resolved 
not  to  tip  the  surly  old  fellow,  but  a  gleam  in  his  eye  made 
me  hesitate.  Then  I  weakened  and  gave  him  a  franc. 
To  my  amazement  he  said  in  excellent  English :  "  I 
thank  you,  sir;  you  are  a  kind,  good  and  patient  man,  and 
madam  is  a  most  charming  and  gracious  lady.  I  am  sorry 
your  breakfast  was  so  bad,  but  I  can  do  nothing  here; 
these  people  are  impossible;  but  it  is  no  fault  of  mine." 
And  shaking  his  head  he  vanished  into  the  doorway  of  the 
hotel.  Driving  away,  I  glanced  up  at  the  windows, 
where  behind  the  curtains  I  thought  I  saw  several  faces 
watching  us  furtively.  It  might  be  that  we  had  missed 
an  adventure  in  coming  away.  Had  I  been  alone  I  should 
have  chanced  it,  for  the  old  waiter  interested  me  with 
his  sudden  confidence  and  his  command  of  English.  But 
whatever  his  story  might  have  been,  it  must  ever  be  to 
me  a  closed  book.  Quaint  Alost  among  the  trees  is  now 
a  heap  of  blackened  ruins. 

115 


(Sourtrm 


(Sourtrai 


£fcf  HE  two  large  and  impressive  stone  towers  flanking 
I IJ  a  bridge  of  three  arches  over  the  small  sluggish 
^■P^  river  Lys  were  those  of  the  celebrated  Broel,  dat- 
ing from  the  fourteenth  century.  The  towers  were  called 
respectively  the  "  Speytorre "  and  the  "  Inghelbrug- 
torre."  The  first  named  on  the  south  side  of  the  river 
formed  part  of  the  ancient  "  enceinte  "  of  the  first  cha- 
teau of  Philip  of  Alsace,  and  was  erected  in  the  twelfth 
century,  and  famed  with  the  chateau  of  Lille,  as  the 
most  formidable  strongholds  of  Flanders.  The  "  Inghel- 
brugtorre  "  was  erected  in  1411-13,  and  strongly  resem- 
bles its  sister  tower  opposite.  It  was  furnished  with  loop- 
holes for  both  archers  and  for  "  arquebusiers,"  as  well 
as  openings  for  the  discharge  of  cannon  and  the  casting 
of  molten  pitch  and  lead  upon  the  heads  of  besiegers 
after  the  fashion  of  warfare  as  conducted  during  the  wars 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  Breton  soldiers  under  Charles 
the  Eleventh  attacked  and  almost  razed  this  great  strong- 
hold in  1382. 
A  sleepy  old  custode  whom  we  aroused  took  us  down 

119 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

into  horrible  dungeons,  where,  with  a  dripping  tallow  can- 
dle, he  showed  us  some  iron  rings  attached  to  the  dripping 
walls  below  the  surface  of  the  river  where  prisoners  of 
state  were  chained  in  former  times,  and  told  us  that  the 
walls  here  were  three  or  four  yards  thick.  The  town  was 
one  of  beauty  and  great  charm,  and  here  we  stopped  for 
a  week  in  a  most  delightfully  kept  small  hotel  on  the 
square,  which  was  bordered  with  fine  large  trees,  both  lin- 
den and  chestnut. 

The  town  was  famed  in  history  for  the  Great  Battle  of 
the  Spurs  which  took  place  outside  the  walls,  in  the  year 
1302,  on  the  plains  of  Groveninghe.  History  mentions 
the  fact  that  "  seven  hundred  golden  spurs  were  picked 
up  afterwards  on  the  battlefield  and  hung  in  the  cathe- 
dral."   These  we  were  unable  to  locate. 

The  water  of  the  Lys,  flowing  through  the  town  and 
around  the  remains  of  the  ancient  walls,  was  put  to  prac- 
tical use  by  the  inhabitants  in  the  preparation  of  flax,  for 
which  the  town  was  renowned. 

It  ranked  with  the  old  city  of  Bruges  in  importance  up 
to  1914,  when  it  had  some  thirty-five  thousand  inhabi- 
tants. In  the  middle  of  the  beflowered  Grand'  Place 
stood  a  quaint  brick  belfry  containing  a  good  chime  of 
bells,  and  on  market  days  when  surrounded  with  the 
farmers'  green  wagons  and  the  lines  of  booths  about 
which  the  people  gathered  chaffering,  its  appearance  was 

120 


The  Belfry:  ( 'ourtrai 


COURTRAI 

picturesque  enough  to  satisfy  anyone,  even  the  most  blase 
of  travelers.  The  belfry  had  four  large  gilt  clock  faces, 
and  its  bells  could  be  plainly  seen  through  the  windows 
hanging  from  the  huge  beams.  On  the  tower  were  gilded 
escutcheons,  and  a  couple  of  armor-clad  statues  in  niches. 
There  was  a  fine  church  dedicated  to  Notre  Dame,  which 
was  commenced  by  Baldwin  in  1 199,  and  a  very  beautiful 
"  Counts  Chapel "  with  rows  of  statues  of  counts  and 
countesses  of  Flanders  whose  very  names  were  forgotten. 

Here  was  one  of  the  few  remaining  "  Beguinages  "  of 
Flanders,  which  we  might  have  overlooked  but  for  the 
kindness  of  a  passerby  who,  seeing  that  we  were  strangers, 
pointed  out  the  doorway  to  us. 

On  either  hand  were  small  houses  through  the  windows 
of  which  one  could  see  old  women  sitting  bowed  over 
cushions  rapidly  moving  the  bobbins  over  the  lace  pat- 
terns. A  heavy  black  door  gave  access  to  the  Beguinage, 
a  tiny  retreat,  Noye  de  Silence,  inaugurated,  tradition 
says,  in  1238,  by  Jean  de  Constantinople,  who  gave  it  as 
a  refuge  for  the  Sisters  of  St.  Bogga.  And  here  about  a 
small  grass  grown  square  in  which  was  a  statue  of  the 
saint,  dwelt  a  number  of  self-sacrificing  women,  bound 
by  no  vow,  who  had  consecrated  their  lives  to  the  care 
of  the  sick  and  needy. 

We  spent  an  hour  in  this  calm  and  fragrant  retreat, 
where  there  was  no  noise  save  the  sweet  tolling  of  the  con- 

121 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

vent  bell,  and  the  cooing  of  pigeons  on  the  ridge  pole  of 
the  chapel. 

In  the  square  before  the  small  station  was  a  statue, 
which  after  questioning  a  number  of  people  without  re- 
sult, I  at  length  found  to  be  that  of  Jean  Palfyn  who,  my 
informant  assured  me,  was  the  inventor  of  the  forceps, 
and  expressed  surprise  that  I  should  be  so  interested  in 
statuary  as  to  care  "  who  it  was."  He  asked  me  if  I  was 
not  English  and  when  I  answered  that  I  was  an  American, 
looked  somewhat  dazed,  much  as  if  I  had  said  "  New  Zea- 
lander  "  or  "  Kamschatkan,"  and  was  about  to  ask  me 
some  further  question,  but  upon  consideration  thought 
better  of  it,  and  turned  away  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

To  show  how  well  the  river  Lys  is  loved  by  the  peo- 
ple, I  quote  here  a  sort  of  prose  poem  by  a  local  poet,  one 
Adolph  Verriest.    It  is  called  "  Het  Leielied." 

"  La  Lys  flows  over  the  level  fields  of  our  beautiful 
country,  its  fecund  waters  reflecting  the  blue  of  our  won- 
drous Flemish  landscape.  Active  and  diligent  servant,  it 
seems  to  work  ever  to  our  advantage,  multiplying  in  its 
charming  sinuosities  its  power  for  contributing  to  our 
prosperity,  accomplishing  our  tasks,  and  granting  our 
needs.  It  gives  to  our  lives  ammunition  and  power. 
The  noise  of  busy  mills  and  the  movement  of  bodies  of 
workmen  in  its  banks  is  sweet  music  in  our  ears,  in  tune 
to  the  rippling  of  its  waters. 

122 


COURTRAI 

"  A  silver  ribbon  starred  with  the  blue  corn-flower,  the 
supple  textile  baptised  in  its  soft  waters  is  transformed 
by  the  hand  of  man  into  cloudy  lace,  into  snowy  linen, 
into  fabrics  of  filmy  lightness  for  my  lady's  wear,  La  Lys, 
name  significant  and  fraught  with  poetry  for  us  —  giv- 
ing life  to  the  germ  of  the  flax  which  it  conserves  through 
all  its  life  better  than  any  art  of  the  chemist  in  the  secret 
chambers  of  his  laboratory. 

'  Thanks  to  this  gracious  river,  our  lovely  town  excels 
in  napery  and  is  known  throughout  all  the  world.  In 
harvest  time  the  banks  of  the  Lys  are  thronged  with 
movement,  the  harvesters  in  quaint  costumes,  their  bodies 
moving  rhythmically  to  the  words  of  the  songs  they  sing, 
swinging  the  heavy  bundles  of  flax  from  the  banks  to  the 
level  platforms, where  it  is  allowed  to  sleep  in  the  water, 
and  later  the  heavy  wagons  are  loaded  to  the  cadence  of 
other  songs  appropriate  to  the  work.  Large  picturesque 
colored  windmills  wave  their  brown  velvety  hued  sails 
against  the  piled  up  masses  of  cloud,  and  over  all  is  in- 
tense color,  life  and  movement. 

"  The  river  plays  then  a  most  important  part  in  the  life 
on  the  Flemish  plains  about  Courtrai,  giving  their  daily 
bread  to  the  peasants,  and  lending  poetry  to  their  exis- 
tence. So,  O  Lys,  our  beautiful  benefactor,  we  love 
you." 
At  this  writing  (March,  1916)  Courtrai  is  still  occu- 

123 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

pied  by  the  troops  of  the  German  Kaiser,  and  with  the 
exception  of  the  destruction  of  the  Broel  towers,  the 
church  of  St.  Martin,  and  the  Old  Belfry  in  the  market 
place,  the  town  is  said  to  be  "  intact." 

Whenever  possible  we  traveled  through  the  Flemish 
littoral  on  the  small  steam  trams,  "  chemins-de-fer-vici- 
naux,"  as  they  are  called  in  French,  in  the  Flemish  tongue 
"  Stoomtram,"  passing  through  fertile  green  meadows 
dotted  with  fat,  sleek,  black  and  white  cows,  and  em- 
bossed with  shining  silvery  waterways  connecting  the 
towns  and  villages.  We  noticed  Englishy  cottages  of 
white  stucco  and  red  tiled  roofs,  amid  well  kept  fields  and 
market  gardens  in  which  both  men  and  women  seemed 
to  toil  from  dawn  to  dewy  evening.  Flanders  before 
the  war  was  simply  covered  with  these  light  railways. 
The  little  trains  of  black  carriages  drawn  by  puffing 
covered  motors,  discharging  heavy  black  clouds  of  evil- 
smelling  smoke  and  oily  soot,  rushed  over  the  country 
from  morning  until  night,  and  the  clanging  of  the  motor- 
man's  bell  seemed  never  ending. 

To  see  the  country  thus  was  a  privilege,  and  was  most 
interesting,  for  one  had  to  wait  in  the  squares  of  the  small 
towns,  or  at  other  central  places  until  the  corresponding 
motor  arrived  before  the  journey  could  proceed.  Here 
there  was  a  sort  of  exchange  established  where  the  farmers 

124 


The  lire  rtrai 


. 


• 


,.  U-uci — i, 


COURTRAI 

compared  notes  as  to  the  rise  or  fall  in  commodities,  or 
perchance  the  duty  upon  beets  and  potatoes. 

Loud  and  vehement  was  the  talk  upon  these  matters; 
really,  did  one  not  know  the  language,  one  might  have 
fancied  that  a  riot  was  imminent. 

One  morning  we  halted  at  a  small  village  called  Ghe- 
luwe,  where  the  train  stopped  beside  a  whitewashed 
wall,  and  everyone  got  out,  as  the  custom  is.  There 
seemed  no  reason  for  stopping  here,  for  we  were  at  some 
distance  from  the  village,  the  spire  of  which  could  be  seen 
above  a  belt  of  heavy  trees  ahead.  The  morning  was 
somewhat  chilly,  and  the  only  other  occupant  of  the  com- 
partment was  a  young  cleric  with  a  soiled  white  necktie. 
He  puffed  away  comfortably  at  a  very  thin,  long,  and 
evil-smelling  "  stogie  "  which  he  seemed  to  enjoy  im- 
mensely, and  which  in  the  Flemish  manner  he  seemed 
to  eat  as  he  smoked,  eyeing  us  the  while  amicably  though 
absent  mindedly,  as  if  we  were  far  removed  from  his 
vicinity.  As  we  neared  the  stopping  place,  two  very  jolly 
young  farmer  boys  raced  with  the  train  in  their  quaint 
barrow-like  wagon  painted  a  bright  green,  and  drawn 
by  a  pair  of  large  dogs  who  foamed  and  panted  past  us 
"  ventre  a  terre,"  with  red  jaws  and  flopping  tongues. 

Had  we  not  known  of  this  breed  of  dogs  we  might  have 
fancied,  as  many  strangers  do,  that  Flemish  dogs  are 

125 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

badly  treated,  but  this  is  not  the  case.  These  dogs  are 
very  valuable,  worth  sometimes  as  much  as  five  hun- 
dred francs  (about  $100). 

Inspections  of  these  dogs  are  held  regularly  by  the  au- 
thorities. The  straps  and  the  arrangement  of  the  girths 
are  tested  lest  they  should  chafe  the  animal,  and,  I  am 
told,  the  law  now  requires  that  a  piece  of  carpet  be  carried 
for  the  animal  to  lie  upon  when  resting,  and  a  drinking 
bowl  also  has  been  added  to  the  equipment  of  each  cart. 
The  dogs  do  not  suffer.  They  are  bred  for  the  cart, 
and  are  called  "  chiens  de  traite"  so  that  the  charge  of 
cruelty  upon  the  part  of  ignorant  tourists  may  be  dis- 
missed as  untrue.  There  is  a  society  for  the  prevention 
of  cruelty  to  animals,  and  it  is  not  unusual  to  see  its 
sign  displayed  in  the  market  places,  with  the  caution 
'  Traitez  les  animaux  avec  douceur.'"  Rarely  if  ever  is 
a  case  brought  into  court  by  the  watchful  police. 

The  young  cleric  gazed  at  us  inquiringly,  as  if  he  ex- 
pected to  hear  us  exclaim  about  the  cruelty  to  animals, 
but  catching  his  eye  I  smiled,  and  said  something  about 
"  ces  bons  chiens"  at  which  he  seemed  relieved,  and 
nodded  back  grinning,  but  he  did  not  remove  the  stogie 
from  his  mouth. 

Priests  in  Flanders  seemed  to  enjoy  much  liberty  of 
action,  and  do  things  not  possible  elsewhere.  For  in- 
stance, at  Blankenberghe,  a  fashionable  watering  place  on 

126 


COURTRAI 

the  coast,  I  saw  a  prosperous,  well-fed  one  (if  I  may  so 
characterize  him  without  meaning  any  offense)  dining 
at  the  Great  Gasthof  on  the  digue,  who  after  finishing  his 
filet  aux  champignons,  with  a  bottle  of  Baune  superior, 
ordered  his  "  demi  tasse  "  with  fine  champagne,  and  an 
Havana  cigar  which  cost  him  not  less  than  three  francs 
(sixty  cents)  which  he  smoked  like  a  connoisseur  while 
he  listened  to  the  fine  military  band  playing  in  the  Kiosk. 
And  why  not,  if  you  please? 

We  remained  for  nearly  twenty  minutes  beside  this 
white  wall  at  the  roadside,  the  animated  discussions  of  the 
farmers  continuing,  for  the  group  was  constantly  aug- 
mented by  fresh  arrivals  who  meant  to  travel  with  us  or 
back  to  the  town  from  which  we  had  come.  It  was  here 
that  we  saw  the  first  stork  in  Flanders,  where  indeed  they 
are  uncommon.  This  one  had  a  nest  in  a  large  tree 
nearby.  One  of  the  boys  shied  a  small  stone  at  him 
as  he  flapped  overhead,  but,  I  think,  without  any  idea  of 
hitting  him.  The  peasants  assembled  here  eyed  us  nar- 
rowly. They  probed  me  and  my  belongings  with  eyes  of 
corkscrew  penetration,  but  since  this  country  of  theirs  was 
a  show  place  to  me,  I  argued  that  I  had  no  right  to  object 
to  their  making  in  return  a  show  of  me.  But  such  scru- 
tiny is  not  comfortable,  especially  if  one  is  seated  in  a  nar- 
row compartment,  and  the  open-mouthed  vis  a  vis  gazes 
at  one  with  steely  bluish  green  unwinking  eyes  —  some- 

127 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

what  red  rimmed.  Especially  if  such  scrutiny  is  accom- 
panied by  free  comments  upon  one's  person,  delivered  in 
a  voice  so  pitched  as  to  convey  the  information  to  all  the 
other  occupants,  and  mayhap  the  engine  driver  ahead. 

The  other  train  at  length  arrived,  there  was  an  inter- 
change of  occupants  and  then  we  proceeded  amid  heavy 
clouds  of  thick  black  smoke  which,  for  a  time,  the  wind 
blew  with  us.  Across  the  tilled  fields  are  narrow  paths 
leading  to  dykes  and  roads.  There  are  many  green 
ditches  filled  with  water  and  in  them  we  could  see  rather 
heavy  splashes  from  time  to  time.  These  we  discovered 
were  made  by  large  green  bull  frogs  —  really  monsters 
they  were,  too.  Of  course  we  were  below  the  sea  level 
here,  but  one  cannot  credit  the  old  story  about  the  boy 
who  plugged  the  dyke  with  his  thumb,  thereby  saving  the 
whole  country. 

The  dykes  are  many  feet  high  and  as  the  foundation  is 
composed  of  heavy  black  stones,  then  layers  of  great  red 
bricks  and  tiles,  and  finally  turf  and  large  willow  branches 
interlaced  most  cunningly  like  giant  basket  work,  such  a 
story  is  impossible. 

My  vis  a  vis,  all  the  while  regarding  me  unwinkingly, 
overheard  me  speak  to  A — ,  in  English. 

Then  he  slowly  took  the  stogie  from  his  mouth  and  ejac- 
ulated, "  Ach  —  Engelsch!  —  Do  it  well  met  you?  ' 

I  replied  that  it  certainly  did. 

128 


COURTRAI 

"  And  met  Madame?  " 

I  nodded. 

" Alsf  u  blieft  mynheer  —  sir"  he  said.  Then  he 
changed  his  seat  and  thereafter  related  to  the  others  that 
he  had  conversed  with  the  strangers,  who  were  English, 
and  were  traveling  for  pleasure,  being  enormously  rich. 
I  think  thereafter  he  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  an 
accomplished  linguist.  So,  pleasantly  did  we  amble 
along  the  narrow  little  steam  tramway  through  luxurious 
green  fields  and  smiling  fertile  landscape  of  the  Flemish 
littoral  in  our  well  rewarded  search  for  the  quaint  and 
the  unusual. 

The  Gothic  Town  Hall,  a  remarkable  construction  on 
the  Grand'  Place,  and  erected  1526,  has  been  restored 
with  a  great  amount  of  good  taste  in  recent  years,  and  the 
statues  on  its  fagade  have  been  replaced  with  such  skill 
that  one  is  not  conscious  of  modern  work. 

The  great  Hall  of  the  Magistrates  on  the  ground  floor, 
with  its  magnificent  furniture,  and  the  admirable  modern 
mural  paintings  by  the  Flemish  artists  Guffens  and 
Se verts  (1875)  was  worth  a  journey  to  see.  The  most 
noteworthy  of  these  paintings  represented  the  "  Depar- 
ture of  Baldwin  IX,"  Count  of  Flanders,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Fourth  Crusade  in  1202,  and  the  "Consul- 
tation of  the  Flemish,  before  the  great  Battle  of  the 
Spurs  "  in  1302. 

129 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

In  this  chamber  is  a  remarkable  Renaissance  mantel- 
piece, which  is  embellished  with  the  arms  of  the  Allied 
Towns  of  Bruges  and  Ghent,  between  which  are  the 
standard  bearers  of  the  doughty  Knights  of  Courtrai, 
and  two  statues  of  the  Archduke  Albert  and  his  Lady,  all 
surrounding  a  statue  of  the  Holy  Virgin. 

On  the  upper  floor  is  the  Council  Chamber,  in  which  is 
another  mantelpiece  hardly  less  ornate  and  interesting, 
and  executed  in  what  may  be  called  the  "  flamboyant  " 
manner  in  rich  polychrome.  It  is  dated  1527  and  was 
designed  by  (one  of  the)  Keldermans  (?) . 

It  has  rows  or  ranges  of  statuary  said  to  represent  both 
the  Vices  and  the  Virtues.  Below  are  reliefs  indicating 
the  terrible  punishment  inflicted  upon  those  who  trans- 
gress. Statues  of  Charles  V,  the  Infanta  Isabella,  and 
others  are  on  corbels. 

Very  large  drawn  maps  of  the  ancient  town  and  its  de- 
pendencies cover  the  walls,  and  these  are  dated  1641.* 

*  Those  who  are  interested  in  the  subject  are  referred  to  C.  Lemonnier's 
"  Histoire  des  Beaux  Arts  en  Belgique  "  (Brussels,  1881),  E.  Hessling's 
"La  Sculpture  Beige  Contemporaire "  (Berlin,  1903),  Destree's  "  Benais- 
sance  of  Sculpture  in  Belgium,"  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle's  "  Early  Flemish 
Painters  "  (1857). 


130 


{Btowtttto  (©roiimnonto) 


dftrtnonto  (Bflitormonto) 

a  STRANGE  half  deserted  little  town  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  river  Scheldt,  clustered  about  a 
bridge,  on  both  sides  of  a  small  sluggish  stream 
called  the  "  Dendre,"  where  long  lines  of  women  were 
washing  clothes  the  live-long  day,  and  chattering  like 
magpies  the  while.  A  Grand'  Place,  with  heavy  trees 
at  one  side,  and  on  the  other  many  small  estaminets 
and  drinking  shops.  That  was  Termonde.  My  note 
book  says  "  Population  10,000,  town  fortified;  forbidden 
to  make  sketches  outside  the  walls,  which  are  fortifica- 
tions. Two  good  pictures  in  old  church  of  Notre  Dame, 
by  Van  Dyck,  '  Crucifixion '  and  an  '  Adoration  of  the 
Shepherds  '  (1635) .  Fine  Hotel  de  Ville,  with  five  ga- 
bles and  sculptured  decoration.  Also  belfry  of  the  four- 
teenth century." 

Termonde  is  famed  throughout  Flanders  as  the  birth- 
place of  the  "  Four  sons  of  Aymon,"  and  the  exploits  of 
the  great  horse  Bayard.  The  legend  of  the  Four  Sons 
of  Aymon  is  endeared  to  the  people,  and  they  never  tire 
of  relating  the  story  in  song  as  well  as  prose.    Indeed 

133 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

this  legend  is  perhaps  the  best  preserved  of  all  through- 
out Flanders.  It  dates  from  the  time  of  Charlemagne, 
the  chief  of  the  great  leaders  of  Western  Europe,  whose 
difficulty  in  governing  and  keeping  in  subjection  and 
order  his  warlike  and  turbulent  underlords  and  vassals 
is  a  matter  of  history  known  to  almost  every  schoolboy. 

Among  these  vassal  lordlings,  whose  continued  raids 
and  grinding  exactions  caused  him  most  anxious  mo- 
ments, was  a  certain  Duke  (Herzog)  called  Aymon,  who 
had  four  sons,  named  Renault,  Allard,  Guichard,  and 
Ricard,  all  of  most  enormous  stature  and  prodigious 
strength.  Of  these  Renault  was  the  tallest,  the  strong- 
est, the  most  agile,  and  the  most  cunning.  In  height  he 
measured  what  would  correspond  to  sixteen  feet,  "  and 
he  could  span  a  man's  waist  with  his  hand,  and  lifting  him 
in  the  air,  squeeze  him  to  death."  This  was  one  of  his 
favorite  tricks  with  the  enemy  in  battle. 

Aymon  had  a  brother  named  Buves  who  dwelt  in  Aig- 
remont,  which  is  near  Huy,  and  one  may  still  see  there 
the  castle  of  Aymon,  who  was  also  called  the  Wild  Boar 
of  the  Ardennes.  This  brother  Buves  in  a  fit  of  anger 
against  Charlemagne  for  some  fancied  slight,  sent  an  in- 
sulting message  to  the  latter,  refusing  his  command  to 
accompany  him  on  his  expedition  against  the  Saracens, 
which  so  exasperated  Charlemagne  that  he  sent  one  of 
his  sons  to  remonstrate  with  Buves  and  if  need  be,  to 

134 


TERMONDE   (DENDERMONDE) 

threaten  him  with  vengeance,  in  case  he  persisted  in  re- 
fusing. Buves  was  ready,  and  without  waiting  to  receive 
his  message,  he  met  the  messenger  half  way  and  promptly 
murdered  him. 

Then  Charlemagne,  in  a  fury,  sent  a  large  and  power- 
ful body  of  men  to  punish  Buves,  who  was  killed  in  the 
battle  which  took  place  at  Aigremont.  Thereupon  the 
four  sons  of  Aymon  met  and  over  their  swords  swore 
vengeance  against  Charlemagne,  and  betook  themselves 
to  the  fastnesses  of  the  Ardennes,  in  which  they  built  for 
themselves  the  great  Castle  of  Montfort  which  is  said  to 
have  been  even  stronger  than  that  called  Aigremont. 

On  the  banks  of  the  river  Ourthe  may  still  be  seen  the 
great  gray  bulk  of  its  ruins.  About  this  stronghold  they 
constructed  high  walls,  and  there  they  sent  out  challenges 
defying  the  great  Emperor. 

Now  each  of  the  four  sons  had  his  own  fashion  of  fight- 
ing. Renault  fought  best  on  horseback,  and  to  him 
Maugis  son  of  Buves  brought  a  great  horse  named  Bayard 
("  Beiaard  "  in  Flemish)  of  magic  origin,  possessed  of 
demoniac  powers,  among  which  was  the  ability  to  run  like 
the  wind  and  never  grow  weary.  Here  in  this  strong- 
hold the  four  sons  of  Aymon  dwelt,  making  occasional 
sallies  against  the  vassals  of  Charlemagne,  until  at  length 
the  Emperor  gathered  a  mighty  force  of  soldiers  and 
horses  and  engines  and  scaling  ladders,  and,  surrounding 

135 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

the  stronghold,  at  length  succeeded  in  capturing  it. 

Tradition  says  that  among  Charlemagne's  retinue  was 
Aymon  himself,  and  intimates  that  it  was  by  the  father's 
treachery  that  the  four  mighty  sons  were  almost  captured, 
but  at  any  rate  the  great  castle  of  Montfort  was  reduced 
to  ashes  and  ruin,  and  only  the  fact  of  Renault's  taking 
the  other  brothers  on  the  back  of  the  wondrous  horse  Bay- 
ard saved  them  all  from  the  Emperor's  fury.  So  they 
escaped  into  Gascony,  where  they  independently  attacked 
the  Saracens  and  drove  them  forth  and  extended  their 
swords  to  the  King  of  Gascony,  Yon,  who  treacherously 
delivered  them  in  chains  over  to  Charlemagne.  These 
chains  they  broke  and  threw  in  the  Emperor's  face,  fight- 
ing their  way  to  freedom  with  their  bare  hands. 

History  thereafter  is  silent  as  to  their  end.  Of  Ren- 
ault it  is  known  only  that  he  became  a  friar  at  Cologne, 
where  his  skill  and  strength  were  utilized  by  the  authori- 
ties in  building  the  walls,  and  that  one  day  while  at 
work,  some  masons  whom  he  had  offended  crept  up  be- 
hind him  and  pushed  him  off  a  great  height  into  the  River 
Rhine,  and  thus  he  was  drowned.  Years  afterward  the 
Church  canonized  him,  and  in  Westphalia  at  Dortmund 
may  be  seen  a  monument  erected  in  his  memory  extolling 
his  prowess,  his  deeds,  and  his  strength. 

As  to  the  great  and  magical  horse  Bayard,  the  chronicle 
says  that,  captured  finally  by  Charlemagne's  soldiers  and 

136 


TERMONDE  (DENDERMONDE) 

brought  before  him,  the  Emperor  deliberated  what  he 
should  do  with  it,  since  it  refused  to  be  ridden.  Finally 
he  ordered  that  the  largest  mill  stone  in  the  region  should 
be  made  fast  to  its  neck  by  heavy  chains,  and  that  it 
should  then  be  cast  into  the  River  Meuse. 

Bayard  contemptuously  shook  off  the  heavy  stone  and 
with  steam  pouring  from  his  nostrils,  gave  three  neighs  of 
derision  and  triumph  and,  climbing  the  opposite  bank, 
vanished  into  the  gloom  of  the  forest  where  none  dared 
follow.  Of  the  immortality  of  this  great  horse  history  is 
emphatic  and  gravely  states  that,  for  all  that  is  known 
to  the  contrary,  he  may  still  be  at  large  in  the  Ardennes, 
but  that  "  no  man  has  since  beheld  him." 

And  now  yearly  on  the  Grand'  Place  at  Termonde 
there  is  a  great  festival  and  procession  in  his  honor,  de- 
picting the  chief  incidents  of  his  life  and  mighty  deeds, 
while,  at  Dinaut,  on  the  River  Meuse,  the  scene  of  some  of 
his  mightiest  deeds,  may  still  be  seen  the  great  Rock  Ba- 
yard, standing  more  than  forty  yards  high  and  separated 
from  the  face  of  the  mountain  by  a  roadway  cut  by  Louis 
the  Sixteenth,  who  cared  little  for  legends.  From  the 
summit  of  this  great  needle  of  rock  sprang  the  horse  Ba- 
yard, flying  before  the  forces  of  Charlemagne  with  the 
four  brothers  on  his  back,  and,  so  tradition  says,  "  leaped 
across  the  river,  disappearing  in  the  woods  on  the  further 
bank." 

137 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

We  were  fortunate  in  being  at  Termonde  on  the  oc- 
casion of  this  picturesque  festival.  Songs  of  Bayard  and 
his  prowess  were  sung  in  the  streets  by  various  musical 
societies,  each  of  which  carried  huge  banners  bearing  their 
titles  and  honors,  and  some  curious  frameworks  on  poles 
which  were  literally  covered  with  medals  and  wreaths 
bestowed  upon  the  societies  by  the  town  at  various  times. 
These  were  borne  proudly  through  the  streets,  and  each 
society  had  its  crowd  of  partisans  and  loud  admirers. 
Had  it  not  been  so  picturesque  and  strange,  it  would  have 
seemed  childish  and  pathetic,  but  the  people  were  so  evi- 
dently in  earnest  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it  so  hugely  that 
the  chance  stranger  could  not  but  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
it  all  with  them.  This  we  did  and  wisely.  There  was 
much  drinking  of  a  thin  sour  beer  called  "  faro,"  which  is 
very  popular  with  the  peasants,  and  the  various  societies 
sang  themselves  hoarse,  to  the  delight  of  all,  including 
themselves.  The  horse  Bayard,  as  seen  in  the  market 
place,  was  a  great  wicker  affair  hung  in  wondrous  chain 
armor,  and  the  four  sons  of  Aymon,  also  of  wickerwork, 
and  likewise  clad  in  armor,  each  bearing  a  huge  sword,  sat 
upon  his  back  and  were  trundled  through  the  streets. 
There  were  also  booths  in  which  the  inevitable  and  odor- 
iferous fritters  were  fried,  and  some  merry-go-rounds  with 
thunderous,  wheezy,  groaning  steam  organs  splitting 
one's  ears,  and  platforms  upon  which  the  peasants  danced 

138 


J'lic  Museum:    Termonde 


• 

>i\'V 


TERMONDE  (DENDERMONDE) 

and  danced  until  one  would  have  thought  them  fit  to  drop 
with  fatigue. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  examine  the  attractions  most 
thoroughly,  but  there  were  two  very  extraordinary  ex- 
hibits of  enormously  fat  women  (who  are  great  favorites 
with  the  peasantry,  and  no  celebration  seems  to  be  com- 
plete without  them) .  Their  booths  were  placed  opposite 
to  each  other,  nearly  face  to  face,  with  only  about  forty 
feet  between  them.  In  this  space  crowded  the  peasants 
listening  open  mouthed  in  wonder  at  the  vocabulary  of 
the  rival  "  barkers." 

As  usual,  a  shower  came  on  during  the  afternoon,  and 
the  decorations  were  soaked  with  the  downpour.  The 
wickerwork  horse  Bayard  was  left  to  itself  out  in  the 
square,  and  the  wind  whisked  the  water  soaked  draperies 
over  its  head,  disclosing  piteously  all  of  its  poor  frame- 
work. The  leaden  skies  showing  no  promise  of  clearing, 
we  called  the  driver  of  the  ancient  "  fiacre,"  and  after  set- 
tling our  score  at  the  "  Grande  Hotel  Cafe  Royal  de  la 
Tete  d'Or,"  we  departed  for  the  station  of  the  "  chemin 
de  fer,"  which  bumped  us  well  but  safely  along  the  road 
to  Antwerp. 

We  came  again  later  on  to  this  little  town  on  the  river, 
thinking  that  we  might  not  have  done  it  entire  justice, 
because  of  the  discomfort  of  the  rainy  day.  And  while 
we  did  not,  it  is  true,  find  anything  of  great  value  to  re- 

139 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

cord,  nor  anything  in  the  way  of  bells  to  gloat  over,  still 
our  rather  dismal  impression  of  the  little  town  in  the 
drizzling  rain  as  we  last  saw  it,  was  quite  removed  and 
replaced  by  a  picture  more  to  our  liking. 

We  were  constantly  finding  new  and  unusual  charms 
in  the  quaint  old  towns,  each  seeming  for  some  reason 
quainter  than  the  preceding  one.  Here  on  this  occasion 
it  looked  so  tranquil,  so  somnolent,  that  we  tarried  all 
unwilling  to  lose  its  flavor  of  the  unusual.  There  were 
old  weather  beaten  walls  of  ancient  brick,  mossy  in  places, 
and  here  and  there  little  flights  of  steep  steps  leading 
down  into  the  water;  broad  pathways  there  were  too, 
shaded  by  tall  trees  and  behind  them  vistas  of  delightful 
old  houses,  each  doubtless  with  its  tales  of  joy,  gayety, 
pain  or  terror  of  the  long  ago. 

The  local  policeman  stood  at  a  deserted  street  corner 
examining  us  curiously.  He  was  the  only  sign  of  life  vis- 
ible except  ourselves,  and  soon  he,  satisfied  that  we  were 
only  crazy  foreigners  with  nothing  else  to  do  but  wander 
about,  took  himself  off  yawning,  his  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back,  and  his  short  sword  rattling  audibly  in  the  still- 
ness. 

The  atmosphere  of  this  silent  street  by  the  river,  shaded 
almost  to  a  twilight  by  the  thick  foliage,  with  the  old 
houses  all  about  us,  seemed  to  invite  reminiscence,  or 
dreams  of  the  stern  and  respectable  old  burghers  and 

140 


TERMONDE  (DENDERMONDE) 

burgesses  in  sombre  clothing,  wide  brimmed  hats,  and 
stiffly  starched  linen  ruffs  about  their  necks  as  rendered 
by  Rembrandt,  Hals,  Rubens  and  Jordaens.  They  must 
have  been  veritable  domestic  despots,  magnates  of  the 
household,  but  certainly  there  must  have  been  something 
fine  about  them  too,  for  they  are  most  impressive  in  their 
portraits. 

"  They  shook  the  foot  of  Spain  from  their  necks,"  and 
when  they  were  not  fighting  men  they  fought  the  waters. 
Truly  the  history  of  their  struggles  is  a  wondrous  one ! 
None  of  these  was  in  sight,  however,  as  we  strolled  the 
streets,  but  we  did  disturb  the  chat  or  gossip  of  two  de- 
lightful, apple  cheeked  old  ladies  in  white  caps,  who  be- 
came dumb  with  astonishment  at  the  sight  of  two  foreign- 
ers who  walked  about  gazing  up  at  the  roofs  and  windows 
of  the  houses,  and  at  the  mynheer  in  knickerbockers  who 
was  always  looking  about  him  and  writing  in  a  little 
book. 

One  cannot  blame  them  for  being  so  dumbfounded 
at  such  actions,  such  incomprehensible  disturbing  actions 
in  a  somnolent  town  of  long  ago.  In  the  vestibule  of  the 
dark  dim  old  church  I  copied  the  following  inscription 
from  a  wall.  It  sounds  something  like  English  gone  quite 
mad  —  and  the  last  line,  it  seems  to  me,  runs  rather  trip- 
pingly —  and  contains  something  of  an  idea  too,  what- 
ever it  means : 

141 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

"  Al  wat  er  is.     Mijn  hoop  is  Christus  en  zyn  bloed. 

"  Door  deze  leer  ik  en  hoop  door  die  het  eenwig  goed. 

"  Ons  leven  is  maar  eenen  dag,  vol  ziekten  en  vol  naar  geklag. 

"Vol  rampen  dampen  (!)  en  vendrieL     Een  schim 

"  Eien  droom  en  anders  niet." 

A  small  steamer  had  advertised  to  leave  for  Antwerp 
about  3  o'clock.  It  lay  puffing  and  wheezing  at  the  side 
of  the  stream,  and  we  went  on  board  and  settled  ourselves 
comfortably,  tired  out  with  our  wanderings.  Here  a 
bevy  of  children  discovered  us  and  ranged  themselves 
along  the  dyke  to  watch  our  movements,  exploding  with 
laughter  whenever  we  addressed  one  another.  Finally 
an  oily  hand  appeared  at  the  hatchway  of  the  engine 
room,  followed  by  the  touseled  yellow  head  of  a  heavily 
bearded  man.  He  looked  at  us  searchingly,  then  at  the 
line  of  tormenting  children.  Then  he  seized  a  long  pole 
and  advanced  threateningly  upon  the  phalanx.  They 
fled  incontinently  out  of  reach,  calling  out  various  exple- 
tives in  Flemish  —  of  which  I  distinguished  only  one, 
"  Koek  bakker  " !  This  would  seem  to  be  the  crowning 
insult  to  cast  at  a  respectable  engineer,  for  he  shook  his 
fist  at  them. 

To  our  amazement  he  then  touched  his  greasy  cap  to 
us,  and  in  the  broadest  possible  Scotch  dialect  bade  us 
welcome.  There  is  a  saying  that  one  has  only  to  knock 
on  the  companion  ladder  of  any  engine  room  in  any  port 

142 


TERMONDE   (DENDERMONDE) 

the  world  over,  and  call  out  "  Sandy  "  to  bring  up  in 
response  one  or  two  canny  Scots  from  the  engine  room 
below.  This  little  steamer  evidently  took  the  place  of 
the  carrier's  cart  used  elsewhere;  for  passengers  and 
parcels,  as  well  as  crates  of  vegetables  were  her  cargo. 
At  length  we  started  puffing  along  the  river,  and  stopping 
from  time  to  time  at  small  landings  leading  to  villages 
whose  roofs  appeared  above  the  banks  and  dykes. 

Delightful  bits  of  the  more  intimate  side  of  the  people's 
life  revealed  themselves  to  us  on  these  unusual  trips. 
We  passed  a  fine  looking  old  peasant  woman  in  a  beauti- 
ful lace  cap,  rowing  a  boat  with  short  powerful  strokes  in 
company  with  a  young  girl,  both  keeping  perfect  time. 
The  boat  was  laden  with  green  topped  vegetables  and 
brightly  burnished  brass  milk  cans,  forming  a  picture  that 
was  most  quaint  to  look  upon.  And  later  we  passed  a 
large  Rhine  barge,  from  the  cabin  of  which  came  the  most 
appetizing  odor  of  broiled  bacon.  Our  whistle  brought 
out  the  whole  family,  and  likewise  a  little  nervous  black 
and  white  dog  who  went  nearly  mad  with  the  excitement 
attendant  upon  driving  us  away  from  the  property  he  had 
to  protect. 

Night  was  falling  when  we  reached  the  quay  side  in 
Antwerp,  and  we  disembarked  to  the  tinkling  melody  of 
the  wondrous  chimes  from  the  tower  of  the  great  Cathe- 
dral. 

H3 


Hottlmin 


Joutam 


KT  was  in  the  great  Gothic  Church  of  St.  Peter  that 
Mathias  Van  den  Gheyn  delighted  to  execute  those 
wonderful  "  morceaux  fugues  "  now  at  once  the  de- 
light and  the  despair  of  the  musical  world,  upon  the  fine 
chime  of  bells  in  the  tower.  This  venerable  tower  was 
entirely  destroyed  in  the  terrible  bombardment  of  the 
town  in  1914.  It  is  probable  that  no  town  in  Belgium 
was  more  frequented  by  learned  men  of  all  professions, 
since  its  university  enjoyed  such  a  high  reputation  the 
world  over,  and  certainly  its  library,  likewise  entirely 
destroyed,  with  its  precious  tomes  and  manuscripts,  was 
considered  second  to  none. 

The  old  Church  of  St.  Peter,  opposite  the  matchless 
Hotel  de  Ville,  was  a  cruciform  structure  of  noble  propor- 
tions and  flanked  with  remarkable  chapels;  it  was  begun, 
according  to  the  archives  in  Brussels,  in  1423,  to  replace 
an  earlier  building  of  the  tenth  century,  and  was  "  fin- 
ished "  in  the  sixteenth  century.  There  was,  it  seems, 
originally  a  wooden  spire  on  the  west  side  of  the  structure 
but  "  it  was  blown  down  in  a  storm  in  1606." 

147 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

When  I  saw  it  in  19 10,  the  church  was  in  process  of 
restoration,  and  the  work  was  being  very  intelligently 
done  by  competent  men.  Before  the  faqade  was  a  most 
curious  row  of  bizarre  small  houses  of  stucco,  nearly  every 
one  of  which  was  a  sort  of  saloon  or  cafe,  and  the  street 
before  them  was  quite  obstructed  by  small  round  tables 
and  chairs  at  which,  in  the  afternoon  from  four  to  five, 
the  shopkeepers  and  bourgeois  of  the  town  gathered  for 
the  afternoon  "  aperitif,"  whatever  it  might  be,  and  to 
discuss  politics.  For  be  it  known  that  this  period  before 
the  outbreak  of  the  war,  was  in  Belgium  a  troublous  one 
for  the  Flemings,  because  of  the  continued  friction  be- 
tween the  clerical  and  the  anti-clerical  parties.  These 
bizarre  houses,  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  priests  with  whom 
I  talked,  were  owned  by  the  church,  and  were  very  profita- 
ble holdings,  but  tourists  and  others  had  made  such  sport 
of  them,  and  even  entered  such  grave  protests  to  the 
Bishop,  that  the  authorities  finally  concluded  to  tear  them 
down.  But  they  were  certainly  very  picturesque,  as  my 
picture  shows,  their  red  tiled  roofs  and  green  blinds, 
making  most  agreeable  notes  of  color  against  old  St. 
Peter's  gray  wall. 

The  church  so  wantonly  destroyed  in  1914  contained 
some  most  remarkable  works  of  art  in  the  nine  chapels. 
Among  these  were  the  "  Martyrdom  of  St.  Erasmus,"  by 
Dierick  Bouts,  long  thought  to  be  a  work  of  Memling. 

148 


¥t 


The  Cathedral:    Louvam 


TOV 


all  hoi: 
sort  of  saloon  or  ( 
uite  ob 

the  at" r 
5  and  boun 

For  be  it 
of  the  war,  v 

ungs,  because  ion  be- 

and  tli  These 

ne  of  t1  iom 
e  owned  by  thech1 

but  tourists  and  I  made  such  sport 

!  even  entered  to  the 

the  authorities  final  1.  ided  to  tear  them 

ere  certaii  my 

their  red  tiled  roofs  and  green  blinds, 

ible  notes  of  color  against  old  St. 

only  destroyed  in  1914 
•rks  of  art  in  the 

dom  of  St.  Er 
[on 


1   t&rA 


#5$ 


ti***>'y"- 


rf 


- 


LOUVAIN 

Another  painting,  "  The  Last  Supper,"  was  also  consid- 
ered one  of  Memling's  works,  until  its  authenticity  was 
established  by  the  finding  of  the  receipt  by  Bouts  for  pay- 
ment, discovered  in  the  archives  of  the  Library  in  Louvain 
in  1870.  Formerly  the  church  owned  a  great  treasure  in 
Quentin  Matsys'  "  Holy  Family,"  but  this  was  sold  to 
the  Brussels  Museum  for  something  less  than  £  10,000, 
and  upon  the  outbreak  of  the  war  was  in  that  collection. 
It  is  said  that  most  of  these  great  paintings  owned  in  Bel- 
gium were  placed  in  zinc  and  leaden  cases  and  sent  over 
to  England  for  safety.    It  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  is  true. 

The  custode  showed,  with  most  impressive  manner,  a 
quaint  image  of  the  Savior  which,  he  related,  was  con- 
nected with  a  miraculous  legend  to  the  effect  that  the 
statue  had  captured  and  held  a  thief  who  had  broken  into 
the  church  upon  one  occasion !  The  townspeople  vener- 
ate this  image,  and  on  each  occasion  when  I  visited  the 
church,  I  noted  the  number  of  old  women  on  their  knees 
before  it,  and  the  many  lighted  waxen  candles  which  they 
offered  in  its  honor.  A  wave  of  indignation  passed  over 
the  world  of  art  when  the  newspapers  reported  the  de- 
struction of  the  beautiful  Hotel  de  Ville,  just  opposite 
old  St.  Peter's.  This  report  was  almost  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  a  denial  from  Berlin  that  it  had  suffered  any 
harm  whatever,  and  it  would  seem  that  this  is  true. 

The  Library,  however,  with  its  hundreds  of  thousands 

149 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

of  priceless  records,  and  masterpieces  of  printing  is,  it 
is  admitted,  entirely  destroyed!  This  great  building, 
black  and  crumbling  with  age,  was  situated  in  a  small 
street  behind  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  The  town  itself 
was  bright  and  clean  looking,  and  there  was  a  handsome 
boulevard  leading  from  the  new  Gothic  railway  station 
situated  in  a  beflowered  parkway,  which  was  lined  with 
prosperous  looking  shops.  This  whole  district  was  "  put 
to  the  torch  "  and  wantonly  destroyed  when  the  town 
was  captured  in  1914.  Late  photographs  show  the  new 
station  levelled  to  the  ground,  and  the  parkway  turned 
into  a  cemetery  with  mounds  and  crosses  showing  where 
the  soldiers  who  lost  their  lives  in  the  bombardment,  and 
subsequent  sacking,  are  buried. 

Remembering  the  complete  destruction  of  Ypres,  one 
can  only  believe  that  the  preservation  of  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  was  entirely  miraculous  and  unintentional. 

P.  J.  Verhaegan,  a  Flemish  painter  of  considerable 
reputation  and  ability,  had  decorated  one  of  the  two 
"  absidiole  "  chapels  which  contained  a  very  richly  carved 
tomb  over  a  certain  lady  of  the  thirteenth  century  whose 
fame  is  known  all  over  Flanders.  The  legend  was  most 
dramatically  told  to  me  by  one  of  the  young  priests  of 
St.  Peter's,  and  this  is  the  story  of  the  beautiful  Margaret, 
called  "  the  Courageous,"  (La  Fiere) . 

By  the  Grace  of  God,  there  lived  in  Louvain,  in  the 

150 


The  Town  Hall:    Louvain 


■ 


\\\\>U      IV 


LOUVAIN 

year  1235,  one  Armand  and  his  wife,  both  devout  Catho- 
lics and  the  keepers  of  a  travelers'  "  ordinary  "  on  the 
road  to  the  coast,  called  Tirlemont.  These  two  at  length 
decided  to  retire  from  their  occupation  as  "  Hoteliers," 
and  devote  and  consecrate  the  remainder  of  their  lives 
to  God,  and  the  blessed  saints. 

Now  they  had  a  niece  who  was  a  most  beautiful  girl 
and  whose  name  was  Margaret,  and  she  had  such  disdain 
for  the  young  gallants  of  Louvain  that  they  bestowed 
upon  her  the  name  of  "  La  Fiere."  Although  but  eight- 
een years  of  age  she  determined  to  follow  the  example 
of  her  uncle  and  aunt,  and  later  become  a  "  Beguine," 
thus  devoting  her  life  to  charity  and  the  care  of  the 
sick  and  unfortunate,  for  this  is  the  work  of  the  order  of 
"  Beguines." 

They  realized  a  large  sum  of  money  from  the  sale  of  the 
hotel,  and  this  became  known  throughout  the  country- 
side. It  was  said  that  the  money  was  hidden  in  the  house 
in  which  they  lived,  and  at  length  eight  young  men  of 
evil  lives,  pondering  upon  this,  resolved  that  they  would 
rob  this  noble  couple.  Upon  a  stormy  night  they  de- 
manded admittance,  saying  that  they  were  belated  travel- 
ers. 

The  young  girl  Margaret  was  absent  from  the  room  for 
a  moment,  when  these  ruffians  seized  the  old  couple  and 
murdered  them.    On  her  return  to  the  upper  room  from 

151 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

the  cellar,  Margaret  surprised  them  ransacking  the  strong 
box  beside  the  fireplace.  So  they  overpowered  her  also, 
but  at  once  there  ensued  an  argument  as  to  what  should 
be  done  with  her,  when  the  chief  rogue,  admiring  her 
great  beauty,  proposed  to  her  that  she  accept  him  as  her 
lover  and  depart  with  him  for  France,  where  they  could 
live  happily.  This  she  scornfully  refused,  whereupon 
"  one  of  the  ruffians  strangled  her  for  ten  marcs  of  silver; 
and  her  soul,  white  and  pure  as  the  angels,  ascended 
to  the  throne  of  Jesus,  in  whom  she  so  well  believed,  and 
there  became  '  V unique  espoux  dont  elle  ambitionait 
V Amour:  " 

It  is  said  that  Henry  the  First  sitting  in  a  window  of 
his  chateau  on  the  river  Dyle  one  night,  saw  floating  on 
the  dark  water  the  corpse  of  this  young  martyr,  where  the 
ruffians  had  thus  thrown  her,  and  "  the  pale  radiance 
from  her  brow  illuminated  the  whole  valley."  Calling  to 
his  consort,  Marguerite  of  Flanders,  he  pointed  out  to  her 
the  wondrous  sight,  and  hastening  forth  they  drew  her 
dripping  body  from  the  dark  slimy  water  and  bore  it  ten- 
derly to  the  chateau.  The  news  spread  far  and  wide,  and 
for  days  came  throngs  to  view  the  "  sweet  martyr's  " 
body,  for  which  the  priests  had  prepared  a  costly  cata- 
falque, and  for  her  a  grand  mass  was  celebrated  in  St. 
Peter's  where  she  was  laid  at  rest  in  a  tomb,  the  like  of 
which  for  costliness  was  never  seen  in  Flanders. 

152 


LOUVAIN 

And  this  is  the  legend  of  Margaret,  called  "  La  Fiere," 
whose  blameless  life  was  known  throughout  the  land. 

I  wish  that  I  had  made  a  drawing  of  this  tomb  while  I 
was  in  the  church,  but  I  neglected  unfortunately  to  do  so. 
It  was  of  simple  lines,  but  of  great  richness  of  detail.  Of 
course  both  it  and  the  beautiful  wax  paintings  of  M. 
Verhaegan  are  now  entirely  destroyed  in  the  ruins  of 
St.  Peter's. 


153 


Dottfti 


Dottai 


^^i  LTHOUGH  across  the  border  in  France,  Douai 
MM  must  still  be  called  a  Flemish  town,  because  of 
J^t  its  history  and  affiliations.  The  town  is  quaint 
in  the  extreme  and  of  great  antiquity,  growing  up  orig- 
inally around  a  Gallo-Roman  fort.  In  the  many  wars 
carried  on  by  the  French  against  the  English,  the  Flemish 
and  the  Germans,  not  to  mention  its  sufferings  from  the 
invading  Spaniards,  it  suffered  many  sieges  and  captures. 
Resisting  the  memorable  attack  of  Louis  the  Eleventh,  it 
has  regularly  celebrated  the  anniversary  of  this  victory 
each  year  in  a  notable  Fete  or  Kermesse,  in  which  the 
effigies  of  the  giant  Gayant  and  his  family,  made  of 
wickerwork  and  clad  in  medieval  costumes,  are  paraded 
through  the  town  by  order  of  the  authorities,  followed  by 
a  procession  of  costumed  attendants  through  the  tortuous 
streets,  to  the  music  of  bands  and  the  chimes  from  the  bel- 
fry of  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 

This,  the  most  notable  edifice  in  the  town,  is  a  fine 
Gothic  tower  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  with  a  re- 
markable construction  of  tower  and  turrets,  supported 

157 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

by  corbels  of  the  fifteenth  century,  containing  a  fine  chime 
of  bells  made  by  the  Van  den  Gheyns.  The  bells  are 
visible  from  below,  hanging  sometimes  well  outside  the 
turret  of  the  bell  chamber,  and,  ranging  tier  upon  tier, 
from  those  seemingly  the  size  of  a  gallon  measure,  to  those 
immense  ones  weighing  from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thou- 
sand pounds.  This  great  tower  witnessed  the  attack  and 
occupation  of  the  Spaniards,  the  foundation  by  the  Ro- 
man Catholics  of  the  great  University  in  1652  to  counter- 
act the  Protestantism  of  the  Netherlands,  which  had  but 
a  brief  career,  and  the  capture  of  the  town  by  Louis  the 
Fourteenth.  Here  was  published  in  1610  an  English 
translation  of  the  Old  Testament  for  Roman  Catholics, 
as  well  as  the  English  Roman  Catholic  version  of  the 
scriptures,  and  the  New  Testament  translated  at  Rheims 
in  1582,  and  known  as  the  "  Douai  Bible."  This  was 
also  the  birthplace  of  Jean  Bellgambe,  the  painter  ( 1540) 
surnamed  "Maitre  des  Couleurs,"  whose  nine  great  oaken 
panels  form  the  wonderful  altarpiece  in  the  church  of 
Notre  Dame. 

Douai  was,  before  the  great  war,  a  peaceful  industrial 
center  of  some  importance,  of  some  thirty  thousand  in- 
habitants. It  has  been  said  that  the  Fleming  worked 
habitually  fifty-two  weeks  in  the  year.  An  exception, 
however,  must  be  made  for  fete  days,  when  no  self-re- 
specting Fleming  will  work.    On  these  days  the  holiday 

158 


The  Town  Hall:    Down 


v  .AT 


1 W4-- 


DOUAI 

makers  are  exceedingly  boisterous,  and  the  streets  are 
filled  with  the  peasants  clad  in  all  their  holiday  finery. 
But  it  is  on  the  day  of  the  Kermesse  that  your  Fleming 
can  be  seen  to  the  best  advantage.  There  are  merry-go- 
rounds,  shooting  galleries,  swings,  maybe  a  traveling 
circus  or  two,  and  a  theatrical  troupe  which  shows  in  a 
much  bespangled  and  mirrored  tent,  decorated  with  tinsel 
and  flaming  at  night  with  naphtha  torches.  Bands  of  mu- 
sic parade  the  streets,  each  carrying  a  sort  of  banneret 
hung  with  medals  and  trophies  awarded  by  the  town  au- 
thorities at  the  various  "  seances." 

But  the  greatest  noise  comes  from  the  barrel  organs  of 
huge  size  and  played  by  steam,  or  sometimes  by  a  patient 
horse  clad  in  gay  apparel  who  trudges  a  sort  of  treadmill 
which  furnishes  the  motive  power.  In  even  these  small 
towns  of  Ancient  Flanders  such  as  Douai,  the  old  allegori- 
cal representations,  formerly  the  main  feature  of  the 
event,  are  now  quite  rare,  and  therefore  this  event  of  the 
parade  of  the  wicker  effigies  of  the  fabulous  giant  Gayant 
and  his  family  was  certainly  worth  the  journey  from 
Tournai.  The  day  was  made  memorable  also  to  the 
writer  and  his  companion  because  of  the  following  adven- 
ture. 

There  had  been,  it  seems,  considerable  feeling  against 
England  among  the  lower  orders  in  this  border  town  over 
the  Anglo-Boer  War,  so  that  overhearing  us  speaking 

159 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

English,  some  half  grown  lads  began  shouting  out  at  us 
"  Verdamt  Engelsch "  and  other  pleasantries,  and  in 
a  moment  a  crowd  gathered  about  us. 

With  the  best  Flemish  at  his  command  the  writer  ad- 
dressed them,  explaining  that  we  were  Americans,  but 
what  the  outcome  would  have  been,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  timely  arrival  of  a  gendarme,  I  know  not;  but  under 
his  protection  we  certainly  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  The 
lower  classes  of  Flemings  in  their  cups  are  unpleasant 
people  to  deal  with,  and  it  were  well  not  to  arouse  them. 
But  for  this  incident,  and  the  fact  that  the  afternoon 
brought  on  a  downpour  of  rain,  which  somewhat  damp- 
ened the  ardor  of  the  people  and  the  success  of  the  fete, 
our  little  trip  over  the  border  to  this  historic  town  would 
be  considered  worth  while.  Our  last  view  of  Douai  was 
from  the  train  window  as  we  recrossed  the  river  Scarpe, 
with  the  massive  tower  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  showing 
silhouetted  dim  and  gray  against  a  streaming  sky. 


160 


<g)u(raftrfr 


<©uiimfKirto 


^^ROM  the  small  stucco  station,  embowered  in  lux- 
r  uriant  trees,  we  crossed  a  wide  grass  grown  square, 
*^  faring  towards  the  turrets  of  the  town,  which  ap- 
peared above  the  small  red  and  black  tiled  roofs  of  some 
mean  looking  peasant  houses,  and  an  estaminet,  of 
stucco  evidently  brand  new,  and  bearing  a  gilt  lion  over 
its  door.  Here  a  wide  and  rather  well  paved  street  led 
towards  the  town,  bordered  upon  either  hand  by  well  kept 
and  clean  but  blank  looking  houses,  with  the  very  narrow- 
est sidewalks  imaginable,  all  of  which  somehow  reminded 
us  of  some  of  the  smaller  streets  of  Philadelphia.  The 
windows  of  these  houses  flush  with  the  street  were  closely 
hung  with  lace,  and  invariably  in  each  one  was  either  a 
vase  or  a  pot  of  some  sort  filled  with  bright  flowers.  Oc- 
casionally there  was  a  small  poor  looking  shop  window 
in  which  were  dusty  glass  jars  of  candy,  pipes,  packages 
of  tobacco,  coils  of  rope  and  hardware,  and  in  one,  evi- 
dently that  of  an  apothecary,  a  large  carved  and  var- 
nished black  head  of  a  grinning  negro,  this  being  the 
sign  for  such  merchandise  as  tobacco  and  drugs. 

163 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Here  and  there  doorways  were  embellished  with  shiny 
brass  knockers  of  good  form,  and  outside  one  shop  was  a 
tempting  array  of  cool  green  earthenware  bowls  of  such 
beautiful  shape  that  I  passed  them  by  with  great  longing. 

Soon  this  street  made  a  turning,  where  there  was  a  good 
bronze  statue  to  some  dignitary  or  other,  and  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  that  wondrous  tower  of  the  famous  Hotel 
de  Ville,  the  mate  to  that  at  Louvain,  and  soon  I  was  be- 
neath its  Gothic  walls,  bearing  row  upon  row  of  niches, 
empty  now,  but  once  containing  effigies  of  the  powerful 
lords  and  ladies  of  Flanders.  These  rows  rise  tier  upon 
tier  to  that  exquisitely  slender  lacelike  tower  crowned 
with  a  large  gilded  statue  of  the  town's  patron,  pennant 
in  hand,  and  shining  in  the  sunlight. 

From  the  Inn  of  the  "  Golden  Apple  of  Oudenaarde  " 
just  opposite,  I  appraised  its  beauties  over  a  good  meal  of 
young  broiled  chicken  and  lettuce  salad,  and  a  bowl  of 
"  cafe  au  lait,"  that  was  all  satisfying. 

Afterwards,  the  custode,  an  old  soldier,  showed  us  the 
"  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus,"  containing  a  fine  chimney  piece 
alone  worth  the  journey  from  Antwerp,  and  the  Council 
Chamber,  still  hung  with  some  good  ancient  stamped 
leather,  and  several  large  badly  faded  and  cracked  Span- 
ish paintings  of  long  forgotten  dignitaries  both  male  and 
female. 

One  Paul  Van  Schelden,  a  wood  carver  of  great  ability 

164 


The  Town  Hall:    Oudenaarde 


. 


i! 


OUDENAARDE 

and  renown,  wrought  a  wonderful  doorway,  which  was 
fast  falling  apart  when  I  saw  it.  This  gave  access  to  a 
large  room,  the  former  Cloth  Hall,  now  used  as  a  sort  of 
theatre  and  quite  disfigured  at  one  end  by  a  stage  and 
scenic  arch.  The  walls  were  stenciled  meanly  with  a  large 
letter  A  surmounted  by  a  crown.  The  interior  had  noth- 
ing of  interest  to  show. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  square  was  the  large  old 
church  of  St.  Walburga,  with  a  fine  tower  capped  by  a 
curious  upturned  bulbous  cupola,  upon  which  was  a  large 
gilt  open-work  clock  face.  As  usual,  there  was  a  chime 
of  bells  visible,  and  a  flock  of  rooks  circling  about  the 
tower.  The  style  of  St.  Walburga  was  Romanesque,  with 
Gothic  tendencies.  Built  in  the  twelfth  century,  it  suf- 
fered severely  at  the  hands  of  the  Iconoclasts,  and  even 
in  its  unfinished  state  was  very  impressive,  none  the  less, 
either,  because  of  the  rows  of  small  stucco  red  roofed 
houses  which  clung  to  its  walls,  leaving  only  a  narrow  en- 
trance to  its  portal.  Inside  I  found  an  extremely  rich 
polychromed  Renaissance  "  reredos,"  and  there  was  also 
the  somewhat  remarkable  tomb  of  "  Claude  Talon,"  kept 
in  good  order  and  repair. 

Oudenaarde  was  famed  for  the  part  it  played  in  the 
history  of  Flanders,  and  was  also  the  birthplace  of  Mar- 
garet of  Parma.  It  was  long  the  residence  of  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  and  gave  shelter  to  Charles  the  Fifth,  who 

165 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

sought  the  protection  of  its  fortifications  during  the  siege 
of  Tournaiin  1521. 

Here,  too,  Marlborough  vanquished  the  French  in  1708. 
I  might  go  on  for  a  dozen  more  pages  citing  the  names 
of  remarkable  personages  who  gave  fame  to  the  town, 
which  now  is  simply  wiped  from  the  landscape.  But  by 
some  miracle,  it  is  stated,  the  Town  Hall  still  stands 
practically  uninjured.  I  have  tried  in  vain  to  substan- 
tiate this,  or  at  least  to  obtain  some  data  concerning  it, 
but  up  to  this  writing  my  letters  to  various  officials  remain 
unanswered. 

I  like  to  think  of  Oudenaarde  as  I  last  saw  it  —  the 
huge  black  door  of  the  church  yawning  like  a  gaping 
chasm,  the  square  partly  filled  with  devout  peasants  in 
holiday  attire  for  the  church  fete,  whatever  it  was.  Part 
of  the  procession  had  passed  beyond  the  gloom  of  the  vast 
aisles  into  the  frank  openness  of  daylight.  Between  the 
walls  of  the  small  houses  at  either  hand  a  long  line  of 
figures  was  marching  with  many  silken  banners.  There 
seemed  to  be  an  interminable  line  of  young  girls  —  first 
communicants,  I  fancied, —  in  all  the  purity  of  their  white 
veils  and  gowns  against  the  somber  dull  grays  of  the 
church.  This  mass  of  pure  white  was  of  dazzling,  start- 
ling effect,  something  like  a  great  bed  of  white  roses. 

Then  came  a  phalanx  of  nuns  clad  in  brown  —  I  know 
not  what  their  order  was  —  their  wide  white  cowls  or  coifs 

166 


Old  Square  and  Church:    Ondcnaardc 


I  i  C 


A  - 


H 


« . . «. 


J 


OUDENAARDE 

serving  only  to  accentuate  the  pallor  of  their  grave  faces, 
veritable  "  incarnations  of  meek  renunciation,"  as  some 
poet  has  beautifully  expressed  it. 

Then  followed  a  group  of  seminarians  clad  in  the  lace 
and  scarlet  of  their  order,  swinging  to  and  fro  their  brazen 
censers  from  which  poured  fragrant  clouds  of  incense. 

All  at  once  a  curious  murmur  came  from  the  multitude, 
followed  by  a  great  rustling,  as  the  whole  body  of  people 
sank  to  their  knees,  and  then  I  saw  beyond  at  a  distance 
across  the  square,  the  archbishop's  silken  canopy,  and 
beneath  it  a  venerable  figure  with  upraised  arms,  elevat- 
ing the  Host. 

Surely  a  moment  of  great  picturesqueness,  even  to  the 
non-participant;  the  bent  heads  of  the  multitude ;  the  long 
lines  of  kneeling  black  figures;  scarlet  and  gold  and  lace 
of  the  priests'  robes  against  the  black  note  of  the  nuns' 
somber  draperies ;  the  white  coifs  and  veils,  through  which 
the  sweet  rapture  of  young  religious  awe  made  even 
homely  features  seem  beautiful:  the  gold  and  scarlet 
again  of  the  choristers;  and  finally,  that  culminating  note 
of  splendor  beneath  the  silken  canopy  of  the  cardinal 
archbishop  (Cardinal  Mercier)  enthroned  here  like  some 
ancient  venerated  monarch;  all  this  against  the  neutral 
gray  and  black  lines  of  the  townspeople;  surely  this  was 
the  psychological  moment  in  which  to  leave  Oudenaarde, 
that  I  might  retain  such  a  picture  in  my  mind's  eye. 

167 


jFtnws 


JTttrttfs 


£H*HE  old  red  brick,  flat  topped,  tower  of  St.  Nicho- 
I  Li  las  was  the  magnet  which  drew  us  to  this  dear 
^■^  sleepy  old  town,  in  the  southwest  corner  of  the 
Belgian  littoral;  and  here,  lodged  in  the  historic  hostel 
of  the  "  Nobele  Rose  "  we  spent  some  golden  days.  The 
name  of  the  town  is  variously  pronounced  by  the  people 
Foorn,  Fern,  and  even  Fearn.  I  doubt  if  many  travelers 
in  the  Netherlands  ever  heard  of  it.  Yet  the  town  is 
one  of  great  antiquity  and  renown,  its  origin  lost  in  the 
dimness  of  the  ages. 

According  to  the  chronicles  in  the  great  Library  at 
Bruges,  as  early  as  a.  d.  800  it  was  the  theatre  of  inva- 
sions and  massacres  by  the  Normans.  That  learned  stu- 
dent of  Flemish  history,  M.  Leopold  Plettinck,  has  made 
exhaustive  researches  among  the  archives  in  both  Brus- 
sels and  Bruges,  and  while  he  has  been  unable  to  trace 
its  beginnings  he  has  collected  and  assorted  an  immense 
amount  of  detailed  matter  referring  to  Baudoin  (or  Bald- 
win) Bras  de  Fer,  who  seems  to  have  been  very  active  in 
harassing  the  people  who  had  the  misfortune  to  come  un- 
der his  hand. 

171 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

The  War  of  the  "  Deux  Roses "  was  fought  outside 
the  walls  here,  likewise  the  Battle  of  the  Spurs  took  place 
on  the  plains  between  Fumes  and  Ypres.  Following  the 
long  undulations  of  the  dunes  from  Dunkerque,  over- 
grown here  and  there  with  a  rank  coarse  grass  sown  by 
the  authorities  to  protect  them  from  the  wind  and  the  en- 
croachments of  the  ever  menacing  sea,  dune  succeeds 
dune,  forming  a  landscape  of  most  unique  character. 
Passing  the  small  hamlet  of  Zuitcote,  marked  by  the 
sunken  tower  of  its  small  church,  which  now  serves  as  a 
sort  of  semaphore  for  the  fishing  boats  off  the  coast,  one 
reached  the  canal  which  crosses  the  plain  picturesquely. 
This  led  one  along  the  path  to  the  quaint  old  town  of 
Fumes,  showing  against  the  heavy  dark  green  of  the  old 
trees,  its  dull  red  and  pink  roofs  with  the  bulk  of  the 
tower  forming  a  picture  of  great  attractiveness. 

The  town  before  the  war  had  about  six  thousand  popu- 
lation which  seemed  quite  lost  in  the  long  lines  of  silent 
grass  grown  streets,  and  the  immense  Grand'  Place, 
around  which  were  ranged  large  dark  stone  Flemish 
houses  of  somewhat  forbidding  exteriors.  All  the  activ- 
ity of  the  town,  however,  was  here  in  this  large  square, 
for  the  lower  floors  had  been  turned  into  shops,  and  also 
here  was  the  hotel,  before  which  a  temporary  moving 
picture  theatre  had  been  put  up. 

These  are  very  popular  in  Flanders,  and  are  called 

172 


The  Fish  Market:    Ypres 


' 


am 


§ 


V-^, 


•^ 


r** 


FURNES 

"  Cinema-Americain."  The  portable  theatres  are  in- 
variably wooden  and  are  carried  "  knocked  down  "  in 
large  wagons  drawn  by  hollowbacked,  thick-legged  Flem- 
ish horses.  As  a  rule  they  have  steam  organs  to  furnish 
the  "  music  "  and  the  blare  of  these  can  be  heard  for  miles 
across  the  level  plains. 

The  pictures  shown  are  usually  of  the  lurid  sort  to  suit 
the  peasants,  and  the  profits  must  be  considerable,  as  the 
charge  is  ten  and  twenty-five  cents  for  admission.  On 
this  square  is  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  the  Palace  of  Justice, 
and  Conciergerie.  This  latter  is  a  sort  of  square  "  don- 
jon "  of  great  antiquity,  crenelated,  with  towers  at  each 
corner  and  the  whole  construction  forming  an  admirable 
specimen  of  Hispano-Flemish  architecture. 

The  angle  of  the  "  Place  "  opposite  the  pavilion  of  the 
officers  is  occupied  by  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  the  "  Palais 
de  Justice,"  very  different  in  style,  for  on  one  side  is  a 
massive  facade  of  severe  aspect  and  no  particular  period, 
while  on  the  other  is  a  most  graceful  Flemish  Renaissance 
construction,  reminding  one  of  a  Rubens  opposed,  in  all 
its  opulence,  to  a  cold  classic  portrait  by  Gainsborough. 

The  Hotel  de  Ville,  of  1612,  exhibits  in  its  "  Pignons," 
its  columns  and  Renaissance  motifs,  a  large  high  tower 
of  octagonal  form  surmounted  by  a  small  cupola.  Its 
frontage  pushes  forward  a  loggia  of  quite  elegant  form, 
with  balustrades  in  the  Renaissance  style. 

173 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Above  this  grave  looking  gray  building  rises  the  tower 
of  the  "  BefTroi,"  part  Gothic  in  style. 

All  the  houses  on  the  "  Place  "  have  red  tiled  roofs, 
and  gables  in  the  Renaissance  style  very  varied  in  form, 
and  each  one  with  a  characteristic  window  above,  framed 
richly  en  coquille,  and  decorated  with  arabesques. 

Behind  these  houses  is  what  remains  of  the  ancient 
Church  of  St.  Walburga,  half  buried  in  the  thick  verdure 
of  the  garden.  After  considerable  difficulty  we  gained 
admittance  to  the  ruin,  because  it  is  not  considered  safe 
to  walk  beneath  its  walls.  Even  in  its  ruin  it  was  most 
imposing  and  majestic.  We  would  have  tarried  here,  but 
the  custode  was  very  nervous  and  hurried  us  through  the 
thickets  of  bushes  growing  up  between  the  stones  of  the 
pavement,  and  fairly  pushed  us  out  again  into  the  small 
parkway,  accepting  the  very  generous  fee  which  I  gave 
him  with  what  I  should  call  surliness.  But  we  ignored 
this  completely,  after  the  manner  of  old  travelers,  which 
we  had  been  advised  to  adopt. 

At  one  side  were  stored  some  rather  dilapidated  and 
dirty  wax  figures  which  reclined  in  various  postures, 
somewhat  too  lifelike  in  the  gloom  of  the  chamber,  and 
entirely  ludicrous,  so  much  so  that  it  was  with  much  dif- 
ficulty that  we  controlled  our  smiles.  The  roving  eye  of 
the  surly  custode,  however,  warned  us  against  levity  of 
any    sort.    These   wax    figures,    he    explained,    gruffly 

174 


FURNES 

enough,  were  those  of  the  most  sacred  religious  person- 
ages, and  the  attendant  saints  and  martyrs,  used  in  the 
great  procession  and  ceremony  of  the  "  Sodalite,"  which 
is  a  sort  of  Passion  Play,  shown  during  the  last  Sunday 
in  July  of  each  year  in  the  streets  of  the  town.*  The 
story  relates  an  adventure  of  a  Count  of  Flanders,  who 
brought  to  Fumes,  during  the  first  years  of  the  Holy  Cru- 
sades, a  fragment  of  the  True  Cross.  Assailed  by  a  tem- 
pest in  the  Channel  off  the  coast,  he  vowed  the  precious 
object  to  the  first  church  he  came  to,  if  his  prayers  for 
succor  were  answered.  "  Immediately  the  storm  abated, 
and  the  Count,  bearing  the  fragment  of  the  Cross  aloft, 
was  miraculously  transported  over  the  waves  to  dry 
land." 

This  land  proved  to  be  the  sand  dunes  of  Flanders, 
and  the  church  tower  was  that  of  St.  Walburga.  After 
a  conference  with  his  followers,  who  also  were  saved,  he 
founded  the  solemn  annual  procession  in  honor  of  the 
True  Cross,  in  which  was  also  introduced  the  represen- 
tation of  the  "  Mysteries  of  the  Passion."  * 

This  procession  was  suppressed  during  the  religious 
troubles  of  the  Reform,  but  afterwards  was  revived  by 
the  church  authorities,  and  now  all  of  the  episodes  of  the 
life  of  Christ  pass  yearly  through  the  great  Grand'  Place 
—  the  stable  in  Bethlehem ;  the  flight  into  Egypt ;  down 

*  This  passion  play  is  described  in  detail  in  "  Some  Old  Flemish  Towns." 
(Same  author.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co.,  New  York,  1911.) 

175 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

to  the  grand  drama  of  the  Calvary  and  the  Resurrection, 
all  are  shown  and  witnessed  with  great  reverence  by  the 
crowds  of  devout  peasants  from  the  surrounding  country. 
And  these  pathetic  waxen  figures  were  those  of  Prophets, 
Apostles,  Jews,  Angels,  Cavaliers  and  Roman  Soldiers, 
lying  all  about  the  dim  dusty  chamber  in  disorder.  Af- 
terwards, from  the  window  of  the  quaint  Hotel  of  the 
"  Nobele  Rose,"  we  saw  this  procession  passing  through 
the  crowded  streets  of  Furnes,  and  almost  held  our 
breaths  with  awe  at  the  long  line  of  black  cloaked, 
hooded  penitents,  bare-footed,  the  faces  covered  so  that 
one  could  hardly  tell  whether  they  were  men  or  women, 
save  for  the  occasional  delicate  small  white  foot  thrust 
forward  beneath  the  black  shapeless  gown. 

And  finally  One  Figure,  likewise  black  gowned  and 
with  concealed  face,  staggering  along  painfully  —  feebly 
—  and  bearing  a  heavy  wooden  cross,  the  end  of  which 
dragged  along  on  the  stones  of  the  street.* 

Outside  of  this,  the  Grand'  Place,  and  the  old  red  brick 
tower  of  St.  Nicholas,  so  scorched  by  the  sun  and  beaten 
by  the  elements,  and  the  rows  of  quaint  gabled  houses  be- 
neath, Furnes  has  little  to  offer  to  the  seeker  after  an- 
tiquity. The  bells  in  the  tower  are  of  sweet  tone,  but  the 
chimes  which  hung  there  were  silent,  and  no  amount  of 
persuasion  could  induce  the  custode  to  admit  me  to  the 

*  See  "  Some  Old  Flemish  Towns." 

I76 


FURNES 

bell  chamber.  Madame  at  the  "  Nobele  Rose  "  had  as- 
sured me  that  I  could  go  up  there  into  the  tower  whenever 
I  wished,  but  somehow  that  pleasure  was  deferred,  until 
finally  we  were  forced  to  give  it  up.  Of  course  Madame 
did  rob  me;  when  the  bill  was  presented,  it  proved  to  be 
fifty  per  cent,  more  than  the  price  agreed  upon,  but  she 
argued  that  we  had  "  used  "  the  window  in  our  apartment 
overlooking  the  procession,  so  we  must  pay  for  that  privi- 
lege. The  point  was  so  novel  that  I  was  staggered  for  a 
suitable  reply  to  it, —  the  crucial  moment  passed, —  I  was 
lost.    I  paid ! 


177 


©*  Srtists  of  Wm 


(Eft*  artists  of  Wm 

Of  T  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  add  here  some  account 
of  the  artists  *  who  dwelt  in  and  made  Malines 
^*  famous  in  the  early  days.  Primitively  the  painters 
formed  part  of  the  Society  of  Furniture  Makers,  while 
sculptors  affiliated  with  the  Masons'  Gild.  These  at 
length  formed  between  them  a  sort  of  federation  as  they 
grew  in  number  and  power.  Finally,  in  1543,  they 
formed  the  Gild  of  Saint  Luke.  In  1560  they  numbered 
fifty-one  free  masters,  who  gave  instruction  to  a  great 
number  of  apprentices.  They  admitted  the  gold  beaters 
to  membership  in  1618,  and  the  following  year  the  or- 
ganization had  increased  to  ninety-six  members. 

Working  in  alabaster  was,  during  this  epoch,  a  spe- 
cialty with  the  sculptors  of  Malines,  which  soon  resulted  in 
a  monopoly  with  them,  for  they  made  a  law  that  no  master 
workman  could  receive  or  employ  more  than  one  appren- 
tice every  four  years.    The  workers  in  gold  covered  the 

*  The  list  is  drawn  in  part  from  the  "  Histoire  de  la  Peinture  et  de  la 
Sculpture  a  Malines,"  par  Emmanuel  Neefs  —  Gand,  Van  der  Heeghen, 
1876,  translated  from  the  manuscripts  composed  in  Latin  by  the  painter 
Egide  Joseph  Smeyers,  Malines,  1774. 

l8l 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

statues  with  heavy  ornaments  of  gold,  it  being  forbidden 
to  market  statuary  not  so  gilded.  The  Gild  of  Saint 
Luke  chafed  under  this  ruling  of  the  Gild  Master,  and 
surreptitiously  made  and  delivered  some  statuary  and 
paintings  without  any  gilding  whatever. 

Charges  being  brought  against  the  offenders,  they  were 
fined  twenty-five  florins,  and  a  law  was  passed  author- 
ized by  the  magistrate,  permitting  domiciliary  visits  upon 
certain  days  known  only  to  the  officers,  to  the  houses  of 
suspected  men  engaged  in  art  work.  Of  course  reputable 
workmen  were  free  from  suspicion,  it  being  only  those 
mediocre  craftsmen  and  irregular  apprentices  who  would 
engage  in  such  traffic. 

It  was  not  until  1772  that  any  sculptor  was  permitted 
to  paint  or  gild  for  profit,  nor  was  any  painter  allowed  to 
model.  The  profession  of  an  artist  was  regarded  as  less 
than  an  industry,  being  a  sort  of  hand  to  mouth  existence 
in  which  the  unfortunate  was  glad  to  accept  whatever 
work  the  artisan  could  give  him.  In  1783  the  Gild  had 
dwindled  to  twelve  members,  who  finally  were  absorbed 
by  the  Academy  of  Design,  established  by  Maria  Theresa 
in  1773.  Thus  perished  the  Gild  of  Painters  and  Sculp- 
tors of  Malines. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  principal  artists  and  en- 
gravers, chronologically  arranged,  who  made  Malines 
famous : 

182 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

Jean  Van  Battele,  one  of  the  promoters  of  the  Gild  of 
Saint  Luke  of  Malines,  was  a  successful  workman  in  1403. 
He  was  said  to  be  more  of  a  painter-glazer  than  a  painter 
of  pictures,  but  there  is  sufficient  evidence  that  he  prac- 
tised both  genres. 

Gauthier  Van  Battele,  son  of  the  above,  was  admitted 
to  the  Gild  in  1426,  and  figured  in  the  artistic  annals  of 
the  town  in  1474-75. 

Baudoin  Van  Battele,  alias  Vander  Wyck,  believed  to 
be  "  petitfils  "  of  Gauthier,  is  mentioned  in  the  chronicles 
of  1495.  He  painted  many  mural  pictures  for  the  "  Bey- 
aerd  " ;  the  fresco  of  the  Judgment  Day  in  the  great  hall 
of  the  "  Vierschaer  "  is  his  greatest  work.  He  died  about 
1508. 

He  had  one  son,  Jean,  who  executed  a  triptych  in  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  of  Malines  in  1535,  and  illuminated  a 
manuscript  register  on  vellum  relating  to  the  "  Toison 
d'Or."  This  book  was  presented  to  Charles-Quint,  and 
so  pleased  him  that  he  ordered  a  duplicate  which  cost  the 
artist  three  years  of  hard  work  to  complete.  He  died  in 
July,  1557,  highly  honored. 

Daniel  Van  Yleghem  was  the  chief  workman  upon  the 
Holy  tabernacle  of  the  chief  altar  of  St.  Rombauld.  An 
engraver  of  great  merit;  he  died  in  1451  (?) . 

Jean  Van  Orshagen  occupied  the  position  of  Royal 
Mint  Engraver  of  Malines,  1464-65.    The  following 

183 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

year  he  was  discovered  passing  false  money  at  Louvain. 
Imprisoned,  he  died  of  the  pestilence  in  1471. 

Guillaume  Trabukier  excelled  in  the  art  of  a  designer- 
engraver  (ciseleur)  in  gold.  For  the  town  he  made  many 
beautiful  pieces  of  work,  notably  the  silver  statue  of  St. 
Rombauld  which  decorated  the  high  altar  of  the  Cathe- 
dral.   He  died  in  1482. 

Zacherie  Van  Steynemolen,  born  about  1434,  was  an 
excellent  engraver  of  dies.  During  more  than  forty  years 
(1465-1507)  he  made  the  seals  of  the  town  corporations. 
Notably  he  engraved  for  the  Emperor  Frederic  IV  the 
two  great  seals  which  are  now  in  the  museum.  He  died 
in  1507. 

Michael  or  Michel  Coxie,  le  vieux,  was  a  greatly  es- 
teemed painter  who  worked  under  the  direction  of  Raph- 
ael. His  real  name  was  Van  Coxcien,  or  Coxcyen,  but 
he  changed  its  form  to  Coxie. 

His  son,  Michel  Coxie  le  Jeune,  surnamed  the  Flemish 
Raphael,  was  born  in  1499,  and  first  studied  under  his 
father.  He  was  shortly  placed  with  Bernard  Van  Orley, 
who  sent  him  to  Rome,  where  he  might  study  the  work  of 
Raphael  Sanzio.  His  work  was  of  very  unequal  merit, 
although  he  painted  hundreds  of  compositions  in  triptych 
form  for  the  churches.  Towards  the  end  of  his  life  he 
was  commissioned  to  paint  a  decoration  for  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  of  Antwerp.    He  fell  from  the  scaffolding  during 

184 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

his  work,  receiving  such  injuries  that  he  was  incapaci- 
tated. Removed  to  his  home  in  Malines,  he  died  after 
some  years  of  suffering,  aged  93  years ! 

His  second  son,  Raphael  Coxie,  born  in  1540,  was  a 
'painter  of  great  merit,  whose  paintings  were  ordered  for 
the  Royal  Spanish  Cabinet.  He  lived  at  Antwerp, 
Ghent,  and  Brussels  respectively,  and  died,  full  of  hon- 
ors, in  1616. 

Michael,  or  Michel,  Coxie,  the  third  of  the  name,  was 
received  in  the  Gild  of  Painters  the  28th  day  of  Septem- 
ber, 1598.  He  is  the  author  of  the  triptych  over  the  altar 
of  the  "  Jardiniers  "  of  Notre-Dame  au  dela  de  la  Dyle. 
He  died  in  1618. 

Michel  Coxie,  the  Fourth,  son  of  the  above,  born  Sep- 
tember, 1604,  was  elected  to  the  Gild  in  1623.  He  be- 
came Court  Painter  to  the  King. 

Jean  Coxie,  son  of  Michel  (above)  excelled  as  a  painter 
of  landscape.  He  it  was  who  decorated  the  two  great  sa- 
lons of  the  "  Pare  "  Abbey.  The  subjects  were  drawn 
from  the  life  of  Saint  Norbert. 

His  son,  Jean-Michel,  though  a  member  of  the  Gild  of 
Malines,  passed  almost  his  whole  life  in  Amsterdam,  Dus- 
seldorf,  and  Berlin.  In  the  latter  town  he  enjoyed  the 
favor  and  patronage  of  Frederick  I.  He  died  in  Milan 
in  1720. 

Jean  de  Gruyter,  gold  worker  and  engraver,  came  in 

185 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

1504  to  Malines,  where  he  enjoyed  a  certain  renown. 
After  his  death  in  1518,  his  sons  Jean  and  Pierre  con- 
tinued the  work  which  he  began.  Jean  made  seals  of 
great  beauty  of  detail,  but  Pierre  was  condemned  to  ban- 
ishment in  1536  and  confiscation  of  all  his  goods  and  chat- 
tels, for  counterfeiting  the  state  coinage. 

Jean  Hoogenbergh,  born  about  1500,  was  a  successful 
painter  of  miniatures;  he  lived  about  fifty  years. 

Jean  Van  Ophem  was  appointed  Civic  Engraver  of 
Seals  and  Gold  Worker.    He  died  in  1553. 

Francois  Verbeek  became  master  workman  in  1531,  and 
finally  doyen  of  the  craft.  He  abandoned  oil  paint- 
ing for  distemper,  in  which  medium  he  excelled,  produc- 
ing masterpieces  depicting  the  most  fantastic  subjects. 
He  died  in  July,  1570. 

Hans  Verbeek,  or  Hans  de  Malines,  believed  to  be  the 
son  of  Francois.  He  was  Court  Painter  to  Albert  and  Isa- 
bella.   He  died  sometime  after  1619. 

Gregoire  Berincx,  born  in  1526,  visited  Italy  and  there 
made  paintings  in  distemper  of  the  ruins  and  ancient  con- 
structions. Returning  to  his  native  town  in  1555  he  was 
at  once  made  a  Gild  Member  of  the  Corporation  of  Paint- 
ers.   He  died  in  1573. 

His  youngest  son,  Gregoire,  became  doyen,  and  of 
him  the  following  story  is  told:  The  great  Van  Dyck 
visited  him  unexpectedly  one  day,  and  demanded  that  he 

186 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

make  a  sketch  of  him  (Van  Dyck)  at  once,  in  his  presence. 
Berincx  accordingly  painted  in  monotone  the  sketch  in 
full  length,  adding  the  details  in  carnation,  and  so 
charmed  was  Van  Dyck,  that  he  assured  him  that  he  would 
adopt  the  system  in  his  own  work,  "  if  he  would  permit." 
He  died  full  of  honors  the  14th  of  October,  1669. 

Jacques  de  Poindre,  born  in  1527,  acquired  a  brilliant 
reputation  as  a  portrait  painter.  He  afterwards  estab- 
lished himself  under  royal  patronage  in  Denmark  where 
he  died  in  1570. 

Corneille  Ingelrams,  a  painter  in  distemper,  was  born 
in  1527.  He  practised  his  art  successfully  in  Malines 
and  died  in  1580. 

His  son,  Andre,  was  admitted  to  the  Painters'  Gild  in 
May,  1571,  and  died  in  1595. 

Marc  Willems,  born  about  1527,  was  a  pupil  of  Michel 
Coxie  (le  vieux),  was  considered  a  great  painter  in  his 
time.  He  made  many  designs  for  the  decorators,  and  ad- 
mirable cartoons  for  tapestry  makers.    He  died  in  1561. 

Jean  Carpreau  was  commissioned  in  1554  to  take  charge 
of  the  restorations  of  the  "  chasse  "  of  the  patron  saint  of 
the  town.  Such  was  his  success  that  he  was  appointed 
Official  Seal  Cutter  and  Engraver,  a  position  of  great  im- 
portance in  those  days.  At  the  Hotel  de  Ville  was  pre- 
served and  shown  a  remarkable  die  in  silver  from  his 
hand,  for  the  Seal  of  the  Municipality  of  Malines. 

187 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Jean  or  Hans  Bol,  born  December,  1534,  was  the  pupil 
of  his  uncles  Jacques  and  Jean  the  Elder,  but  after  two 
years  of  apprenticeship  he  went  to  Germany  for  a  time. 
Returning  to  Malines,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  paint- 
ing of  landscapes  with  great  success.  Likewise  he  some- 
times engraved  plates  on  copper.  His  productions  are 
many.    He  died  at  Amsterdam  in  1593. 

Lambert  de  Vos,  admitted  to  the  Gild  of  Saint  Luke 
in  1563,  was  engaged  in  the  service  of  Charles  Kimy,  Im- 
perial Ambassador  to  Constantinople.  He  painted  ori- 
ental subjects  in  water  colors,  which  were  distinguished 
for  richness  of  color,  and  accuracy  of  drawing.  Many  of 
these  are  in  the  Library  of  Breme. 

Jean  Snellinck,  born  about  1554,  was  an  historical 
and  battle  painter.  It  was  he  who  prepared  the  designs 
for  the  tapestries  of  Oudenaarde.  During  his  residence 
in  that  town  he  painted  the  triptych  for  the  church 
of  Notre  Dame  de  Pamele.  He  died  at  Antwerp  in 
1638. 

Louis  Toeput  was  born  about  1550.  He  was  a  land- 
scape painter  of  renown,  but  also  drew  many  architectural 
subjects.  In  his  later  period,  he  devoted  himself  to  Flem- 
ish literature  with  marked  success  as  an  authority. 

Luc  Van  Valckenborgh,  called  "  partisan  of  the  Re- 
form," was  born  in  1566,  and  in  his  student  days  went  to 
Germany,  where  he  practised  his  art  as  a  portrait  painter. 

188 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

His  reputation  was  made  by  his  portrait  of  the  Archduke 
Matthias. 

He  died  in  1625,  leaving  a  son  Martin,  also  his  pupil, 
who  established  himself  at  Antwerp  and  later  at  Frank- 
fort. Martin  was  an  historical  and  landscape  painter, 
although  he  painted  some  good  portraits  in  the  manner  of 
his  father.    He  is  thought  to  have  died  about  1636. 

Philip  Vinckboons,  the  elder,  was  born  about  1550, 
became  an  associate  of  the  Gild  of  Painters  in  1580,  and 
died  1631.  His  son  Maur,  the  younger,  born  1585,  stud- 
ied painting  under  his  father,  finishing  under  his  uncle 
Pierre  Stevens.    He  died  in  1647. 

Pierre  Stevens,  born  about  1550,  was  an  historical 
painter  and  engraver,  as  well  as  a  portrait  painter.  This 
master  latinized  his  name  and  signed  his  works  thus  — 
P.  Stephani.  He  died  in  1604  at  Prague,  where  he  had 
dwelt  since  1590,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Emperor 
Rudolphe  II. 

Rombaut  Van  Avont,  incorporated  in  the  Gild  of  Saint 
Luke  in  1581,  was  a  sculptor  and  painter  as  well  as  an 
illuminator  of  manuscripts  on  vellum.  He  died  in  1619. 
His  son  Pierre,  born  in  1599,  was  an  excellent  painter  of 
landscapes,  which  were  distinguished  by  a  most  agreeable 
manner.  Admitted  as  a  "  franc  maitre  "  at  Antwerp,  he 
became  one  of  the  burgesses  of  that  town  in  October,  163 1 . 

Luc  Franchoys,  the  elder,  born  January,  1574,  was  ad- 

189 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

mitted  to  the  Gild  in  1599.  A  painter  of  remarkable  tal- 
ent, he  turned  to  historical  subjects,  which  he  produced 
with  great  success.  In  drawing,  too,  he  was  most  skillful 
and  correct.  He  died  in  1693  and  was  buried  with  hon- 
ors in  the  church  of  St.  Jean. 

His  son  Pierre,  born  in  1606,  became  pupil  of  Gerard 
Seghers  of  Antwerp,  where  he  resided  for  some  time. 
Afterward  he  lived  in  Paris,  where  his  works  were  eagerly 
sought  and  appreciated.  He  never  married,  but  always 
surrounded  himself  with  young  pupils  to  the  time  of  his 
death  in  1654. 

His  younger  brother,  Luc,  was  born  1616.  He  re- 
mained with  his  father,  working  in  his  studio  until  he  was 
admitted  to  the  Gild,  when  he  went  to  Paris,  where  he 
painted  portraits  of  members  of  the  Court,  enjoying  con- 
siderable renown  and  favor.  He  returned  finally  to  Ma- 
lines,  where  he  died  in  April,  1681. 

Frans  Hals  (The  Great),  was  born  either  here  in  Ma- 
lines,  or  at  Antwerp,  in  1584.  Accounts  differ.  His  par- 
ents were  citizens  of  Malines,  at  any  rate.  He  had  the 
honor  and  glory  of  introducing  into  Holland  the  "  pro- 
cede  magistral  "  of  Rubens  and  his  school.  His  works  are 
too  well  known  to  need  description  here.  He  established 
himself  at  Haarlem,  where  he  died  in  great  poverty  in 
1666.    Not  even  his  burial  place  is  now  known. 

Jean  le  Saive  of  Namur,  son  of  Le  Saive  the  Elder,  was 

190 


The  Church  of  Our  Lath/  of  Hanswyk 


<A 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

born  in  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
He  painted  animals,  landscapes,  and  historical  subjects. 
In  the  latter  genre  he  is  inferior  to  his  father;  his  color 
is  drier,  and  his  drawing  less  correct.  The  date  of  his 
death  is  not  recorded. 

George  Biset,  painter-decorator,  entered  the  studio  of 
Michel  Coxie  (Third)  in  1615.  He  lived  throughout  his 
life  at  Malines,  and  died  1671. 

His  son,  Charles  Emmanuel,  born  1633,  was  an  excel- 
lent portrait  painter,  enjoying  much  appreciation  at  the 
Court  of  France.  He  became  Burgess  of  Antwerp  in 
1663,  and  was  elected  a  Director  of  the  Academy.  He 
died  at  Breda  in  1685. 

Martin  Verhoeven  was  elected  to  the  Gild  in  1623. 
He  painted  flowers  and  fruit  pieces  which  enjoyed  great 
celebrity. 

His  brother  Jean  was  known  as  a  portraitist  of  great 
ability.    In  late  life  he  produced  some  good  sculptures. 

David  Herregouts,  born  1603,  was  elected  to  the  Gild 
in  1624.  Examples  of  his  work  are  rare.  He  died  at 
Ruremonde.  His  son  Henri  was  a  pupil  of  his  father. 
David  went  to  Italy,  residing  at  Rome.  After  traveling 
in  Germany  he  returned  to  Malines,  and  died  at  Antwerp 
at  an  advanced  age. 

Jacques  de  (or  Van)  Homes,  painter  in  distemper,  was 
a  pupil  of  Gregoire  Berincx  (Second)  and  executed  much 

191 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

work  in  "  cisele  "  under  the  direction  of  Fayd'herbe.  He 
died  in  1674. 

Jean  Philippe  Van  Thieleu,  born  1618,  was  an  eminent 
flower  and  still-life  painter,  under  the  guidance  of  Daniel 
Zeghers.  He  was  patronized  by  the  King  of  Spain,  and 
died  in  1674. 

Ferdinand  Elle,  born  1631,  according  to  some;  in  1612, 
say  other  accounts,  painter  of  portraits,  went  to  Paris, 
where  he  remained  until  his  death  in  1660  ( ?) . 

Gilles  (or  Egide)  Smeyers,  historical  painter,  was  born 
in  1635,  and  studied  under  his  father  Nicholas,  later 
under  Jean  Verhoeven.  In  friendship  for  his  companion 
and  master  Luc  Franchoys  the  younger,  he  finished  many 
of  the  latter's  incompleted  works  after  his  death. 

His  son  Jacques,  born  1657,  was  admitted  to  the  Gild 
in  1688,  and  died  in  1732. 

Egide  Joseph,  natural  son  of  Jacques,  born  1694,  was 
an  historical  painter,  as  well  as  a  poet.  He  lived  at 
Dusseldorf  for  three  years.  Obliged  to  support  his  sick 
parents,  he  did  a  great  deal  of  work.  Smeyers  had  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  the  Latin  tongue,  which  he  wrote 
with  great  fluency  and  ease,  in  both  poetry  and  prose.  He 
possessed,  too,  a  working  knowledge  of  French,  German, 
and  Italian.  His  historical  works  are  many.  At  length, 
sick  and  helpless,  he  was  admitted  to  the  hospital  of  Notre 

192 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

Dame,  where  he  died  in  1771.  He  painted  the  large  por- 
trait of  Cardinal  Thomas  Philippe  d' Alsace,  Archbishop 
of  Malines. 

Daniel  Janssens,  born  in  1636,  was  a  painter-decorator 
of  the  first  order.  He  adopted  the  manner  of  Jacques  de 
Homes  of  whom  he  was  the  favorite  pupil.  After  hav- 
ing resided  in  Antwerp  for  some  years  he  returned  to  Ma- 
lines, where  he  died  in  1682.  He  it  was  who  designed 
and  constructed  the  immense  triumphal  arch  for  the  Jubi- 
lee of  1680.  This  arch  is  preserved  in  the  Town  Hall, 
and  serves  to  decorate  the  fagade  of  the  "  Halles  "  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Grandes  Fetes. 

Sebastian  Van  Aken,  born  1648,  was  pupil  of  Luc 
Franchoys  the  Younger.  Later  he  entered  the  studio  of 
Charles  Maratti  in  Rome.  After  painting  in  Spain  and 
Portugal  he  returned  to  Malines,  where  he  died  in  1722. 

August  Casimir  Redel,  born  1640.  This  painter 
of  merit  became  insane  from  excesses  and  died  in  1687. 
He  was  also  the  author  of  a  life  of  St.  Rombaut  (Rom- 
bold)  and  wrote  much  in  verse.  He  composed  an  ode  on 
the  occasion  of  the  Jubilee  of  Malines  in  1680. 

Jacques  la  Pla,  pupil  of  Jean  le  Saive,  a  master  painter 
of  Malines  in  1673,  died  in  1678. 

Jean  Barthelemy  Joffroy,  born  1669,  was  historian, 
painter,  and  engraver.    He  died  1740. 

193 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

Jean  Joseph  Van  Campenhout,  designer  and  engraver. 
He  was  designer  of  the  great  book  of  the  "  Cavalcade  of 
Malines"  in  1775. 

Antoine  Opdebeek,  born  1709,  author  of  many  paint- 
ings of  merit,  was  an  untaught  genius.  Employed  in  the 
hospital  of  St.  Hedwige  in  Malines,  he  taught  himself  the 
art,  with  success,  but  never  reached  the  height  which 
would  have  been  his  had  he  had  instruction  in  his  youth. 
He  died  1759. 

Pierre  Antoine  Verhulst,  born  1751,  painter  of  marines 
and  landscape,  which  he  executed  with  great  delicacy  and 
charm,  died  1809. 

Matthieu  Joseph  Charles  Hunin,  born  1770,  was  a 
master  engraver,  producing  many  plates  after  Rubens  and 
other  masters.  To  his  talent  is  also  due  a  great  number 
of  original  engravings  of  the  Tower  of  St.  Rombold;  the 
interior  and  exterior  of  the  Cathedral  of  Antwerp;  the 
Hotels  de  Villes  of  Oudenaarde,  Brussels  and  Louvain, 
etc.,  etc.    He  died  in  1851. 

His  son,  Pierre  Paul  Aloys,  born  1808,  was  a  genre 
painter  of  great  taste  and  renown.  His  works  in  which 
the  painting  of  silk  and  satin  appeared  were  in  great  de- 
mand. He  was  professor  of  the  Malines  Academy,  and 
in  1848  Leopold  I  conferred  upon  him  the  decoration  of 
the  Order  of  Leopold.    He  died  February  27th,  1855. 

194 


THE  ARTISTS  OF  MALINES 

Many  of  his  paintings  have  been  reproduced  in  engrav- 
ings. 

Jean  Ver  Vloet,  the  doyen  of  the  artists  of  Malines, 
died  October  27th,  1869,  after  a  long  and  successful 
artistic  career.  One  of  the  founders  of  the  society  "  Pour 
l'Encouragement  des  Beaux  Arts  "  of  Malines,  he  was 
indefatigable  in  all  art  movements  of  the  town.  To  him 
was  due  the  success  of  the  magnificent  Cavalcades  for 
which  Malines  has  been  famous.  For  fifty  years  he  was 
the  director  of  the  Academy  of  Design  and  Painting  of  his 
native  town. 

This  ends  the  list  of  famous  painters  of  Malines,  and 
so  far  as  I  know  it  is  the  first  and  only  one  in  English. 
Did  space  permit  I  might  include  the  architects  who  made 
Flanders  famous  the  world  over  as  the  cradle  of  art  and 
architecture. 


19? 


a  ffllorii  about  tfe  Brians 


8  Word  a&out  tht  %tk\m% 

^fcfHE  little  country  called  Belgium,  it  should  be  re- 
■  Lj  membered,  dates  only  from  1830,  when  the  exist- 
^■*^  ing  constitution  was  prepared  and  adopted  for  the 
nine  southern  provinces  of  the  ancient  Netherlands.  The 
sudden  and  unexpected  revolt  against  the  Dutch  in  that 
year  has  been  since  styled  "  a  misunderstanding  "  upon 
the  part  of  the  Belgians,  and  was  brought  about  by  the 
action  of  the  King,  William  I,  of  the  house  of  Orange- 
Nassau,  who  attempted  ostentatiously  to  change  at  once 
the  language  and  religion  of  his  southern  subjects.  They 
were  both  Roman  Catholic  and  conservative  to  the  last 
degree,  attached  to  traditional  rights  and  forms  and 
fiercely  proud  of  the  ancient  separate  constitutions  of  the 
southern  provinces,  which  could  be  traced  back  to  the 
charters  of  the  Baldwins  and  Wenceslas. 

Undoubtedly  the  French  Revolution  of  1830,  which 
closed  the  Monarchy  of  the  Bourbons,  hastened  the  crisis. 
For  the  Belgians  had  no  liking  for  the  rule  of  the  House 
of  Orange-Nassau  against  which  they  had  discontentedly 
struggled  for  some  years  more  or  less  openly.    But  mat- 

199 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

ters  might  have  gone  on  thus  indefinitely  had  not  the 
French  Revolution  furnished  ground  for  hope  of  sup- 
port from  a  people  akin  in  religion  and  language,  as 
well  as  race.  The  smouldering  fire  of  discontent  broke 
into  fierce  flame  on  August  25th,  1830,  in  the  city  of 
Brussels,  during  a  performance  of  the  opera  "  Muette  de 
Portici,"  when  the  tenor  was  singing  the  inspired  words 
of  Massaniello: 

"  Plutot  mourir  que  rester  miserable, 
Pour  un  esclave  est-il  quelque  danger? 
Tombe  le  joug  qui  nous  accable, 
Et  sous  nos  coups  perisse  l'etranger. 
Amour  sacre  de  la  patrie, 
Rends  nous  l'audace  et  la  fierte; 
A  mon  pays  je  dois  la  vie, 
II  me  devra  sa  liberte !  " 

The  immense  audience,  roused  to  patriotic  enthusiasm, 
took  up  the  words  of  the  song  and,  rushing  from  the 
theatre  en  masse,  paraded  the  streets,  attacking  the  resi- 
dences of  the  Dutch  ministers,  which  they  sacked  and 
burned. 

The  few  troops  in  the  town  were  powerless  to  stem  the 
revolt,  which  grew  until  Brussels  was  entirely  in  the 
hands  of  the  revolutionists,  who  then  proceeded  to  ap- 
point a  Council  of  Government,  which  prepared  the  now 
celebrated  Document  of  Separation. 

William  sent  his  son,  the  Prince  of  Orange,  to  treat 

200 


A  WORD  ABOUT  THE  BELGIANS 

with  the  Council,  instead  of  sending  a  force  of  soldiers 
with  which  the  revolt  might  have  been  terminated  easily, 
it  is  claimed.  The  Prince  entered  Brussels  accompanied 
only  by  a  half  dozen  officers  as  escort.  After  three  days' 
useless  parley,  he  returned  to  King  William  with  the 
"  Document  of  Separation." 

The  reply  of  the  King  to  this  message  was  made  to  the 
Dutch  Chambers  ten  days  later.  Denouncing  the  revolt, 
he  declared  that  he  would  never  yield  to  "  passion  and 
violence."  Orders  were  then  issued  to  Dutch  troops  un- 
der Prince  Frederick  of  Holland  to  proceed  to  Brussels 
and  retake  the  city.  The  attack  was  made  upon  the  four 
gates  of  the  walled  city  on  September  23rd.  The  Bel- 
gians prepared  a  trap,  cunningly  allowing  the  Dutch  sol- 
diers to  enter  two  of  the  gates  and  retreating  towards  the 
Royal  Park  facing  the  Palace.  Here  they  rallied  and  at- 
tacked the  troops  of  William  from  all  sides  at  once. 
Joined  by  a  strong  body  of  men  from  Liege  they  fought 
for  three  days  with  such  ferocity  that  Prince  Frederick 
was  beaten  back  again  and  again,  until  he  was  forced  to 
retreat  at  midnight  of  the  third  day. 

In  the  battle  six  hundred  Belgian  citizens  were  slain, 
and  to  these  men,  regarded  now  as  the  martyrs  of  the  Rev- 
olution, a  great  monument  has  been  erected  in  the  Place 
des  Martyrs,  near  the  trench  in  which  they  were  buried. 

A  provisional  government  was  now  formed  which  is- 

201 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

sued  the  following  notice:  '  The  Belgian  provinces,  de- 
tached by  force  from  Holland,  shall  form  an  independ- 
ent state."  Measures  were  taken  to  rid  the  country  of 
the  Dutch,  who  were  expelled  forcibly  across  the  border. 

Envoys  to  Paris  and  London  presented  documents  to 
secure  sympathy  for  the  new  government,  while  the  fight 
for  independence  was  still  going  on  fiercely.  Waelhern 
and  Berchem,  besieged  by  the  Belgian  volunteers,  soon 
fell,  and  the  city  of  Antwerp  was  occupied  by  them  before 
the  end  of  October. 

Then  the  Conference  of  the  Five  Powers,  sitting  in 
London,  interposed  to  force  an  armistice  in  order  to  de- 
terminate some  understanding  and  arrangement  between 
the  Dutch  and  the  Belgians,  since  it  had  become  evident 
that  the  Netherlands  kingdom  of  1815  had  practically 
come  to  an  end.  By  the  treaty  of  London  in  1814,  and 
that  of  Vienna  in  1815,  Belgium,  after  a  short  interreg- 
num of  Austrian  rule,  was  incorporated  with  Holland 
into  the  Kingdom  of  the  Netherlands. 

In  the  space  of  a  month  then  the  Belgian  patriots  had 
accomplished  their  task,  and  on  November  18th  the  Na- 
tional Assembly,  convoked,  declared  as  its  first  act  the 
independence  of  the  Belgians. 

It  was  now  necessary  to  find  a  head  upon  which  to 
place  the  crown.  The  first  choice  of  the  provisional  gov- 
ernment was  the  Due  de  Nemours,  the  son  of  Louis 

202 


A  WORD  ABOUT  THE  BELGIANS 

Philippe,  but  objection  was  made  to  him  on  the  ground 
that  his  selection  would  add  too  much,  perhaps,  to  the 
power  of  France,  so  his  candidature  was  withdrawn. 

Choice  was  fixed  finally  upon  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe- 
Coburg,  who  had  but  recently  declined  the  throne  of 
Greece  by  advice  of  the  European  diplomats.  A  resident 
of  England,  this  Prince,  who  had  espoused  Princess  Char- 
lotte, the  daughter  of  George  IV,  was  well  known  as  a 
most  clear  headed  diplomat,  a  reputation  he  enjoyed  dur- 
ing his  whole  career. 

In  his  acceptance  he  said:  "  Human  destiny  does  not 
offer  a  nobler  or  more  useful  task  than  that  of  being  called 
to  found  the  independence  of  a  nation,  and  to  consolidate 
its  liberties." 

The  people  hailed  and  received  him  with  great  enthusi- 
asm, and  on  July  21st  he  was  crowned  King  of  the  Bel- 
gians, with  most  impressive  ceremonies,  at  Brussels.  The 
Dutch,  however,  viewed  all  this  with  much  concern,  and 
at  once  began  hostilities,  thinking  that  the  powers  would 
sustain  them  rather  than  permit  France  to  occupy  Bel- 
gium. At  once  Dutch  troops  were  massed  for  attack  on 
both  Brussels  and  Louvain.  Outnumbered  by  the  Dutch, 
the  badly  organized  national  forces  of  Belgium  met  dis- 
aster at  Hasselt,  and,  realizing  his  peril,  Leopold  be- 
sought the  French,  who  were  at  the  frontier,  to  come  to 
his  assistance.    Simultaneously  with  the  assault  on  Lou- 

203 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

vain,  therefore,  the  French  troops  arrived  at  Brussels. 
Great  Britain  now  entered  the  fray,  threatening  to  send  a 
fleet  of  warships  to  occupy  the  Scheldt  unless  King  Wil- 
liam recalled  his  army  from  Belgium.  This  settled  the 
matter,  and  the  Dutch  withdrew.  The  French  likewise 
returned  to  their  own  territory.  Jealousy,  however,  was 
manifested  by  Austria,  Prussia  and  Russia  toward  the 
new  kingdom,  and  their  refusal  to  receive  Leopold's  am- 
bassadors was  calculated  to  encourage  hope  in  Holland 
that  the  reign  of  the  new  monarch  was  to  be  limited. 

New  troubles  began  for  the  Belgians,  in  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  London  Protocol  of  October  15,  1831,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  demand  that  the  greater  part  of  Lim- 
bourg  and  Luxembourg  be  ceded.  Not  only  the  Bel- 
gians but  the  Dutch  opposed  this  demand,  as  well  as 
the  conditions  of  the  protocol.  And  at  once  King  Wil- 
liam prepared  for  armed  resistance.  Leopold  immedi- 
ately after  obtaining  votes  for  the  raising  of  the  sum  of 
three  millions  sterling  for  war  purposes,  increased  the 
army  to  one  hundred  thousand  men. 

Now  ensued  a  most  critical  period  for  the  little  king- 
dom, but  both  France  and  England  held  their  shields  over 
it,  while  Leopold's  marriage  to  the  Princess  Louise,  eldest 
daughter  of  King  Louis  Philippe,  gained  for  it  still 
greater  strength  in  its  relations  with  France. 

King  William,  however,  refused  stubbornly  to  recog- 

204 


A  WORD  ABOUT  THE  BELGIANS 

nise  the  protocol,  and  retained  possession  of  Antwerp, 
which  he  held  with  a  garrison  of  five  thousand  soldiers. 
Antwerp  Citadel  being  the  pride  of  the  kingdom,  the  Bel- 
gians, restive  under  the  control  of  the  powers,  demanded 
that  both  England  and  France  help  them  at  once  to  re- 
cover it,  alleging  that  in  case  this  help  was  refused,  they, 
with  their  hundred  thousand  men,  were  ready  to  cap- 
ture it  themselves.  So  in  the  month  of  November  the 
French  troops,  under  Marechal  Gerard,  laid  siege  to  the 
Antwerp  stronghold,  held  by  General  Chasse,  who  after 
three  weeks'  siege  capitulated,  and  the  Dutch,  rather  than 
have  their  warships  captured,  burnt  and  sank  them  in  the 
Scheldt. 

With  the  surrender  of  Antwerp,  the  French  withdrew 
their  army,  but  the  Dutch  sullenly  refused  to  recognise 
the  victory  until  the  year  1839,  when  they  withdrew  from 
and  dismantled  the  forts  on  the  Scheldt  facing  Antwerp. 

Naturally  the  support  of  the  French  and  English 
brought  about  a  deep  and  lasting  feeling  of  gratitude  on 
the  part  of  the  Belgians.  Louis  Philippe  said,  "  Belgium 
owes  her  independence  and  the  recovery  of  her  territory 
to  the  union  of  France  and  England  in  her  cause." 

Her  independence  thus  gained  and  recognised,  Bel- 
gium turned  her  attention  to  the  development  of  the 
country  and  its  rich  natural  resources.  The  Manufac- 
tures flourished,  her  mines  of  coal  and  iron  became  fa- 

205 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

mous  throughout  the  world,  and  she  trod  the  peaceful  path 
of  strict  neutrality  among  the  great  nations.  Passing 
over  the  all  familiar  history  of  Waterloo,  one  may  quote 
the  saying  of  M.  Northomb :  "  The  Battle  of  Waterloo 
opened  a  new  era  for  Europe,  the  era  of  representative 
government."  And  this  new  era  was  enjoyed  by  Belgium 
until  the  Franco-Prussian  War  confronted  the  little  coun- 
try with  a  fresh  crisis,  and  one  fraught  with  danger.  Al- 
though her  absolute  neutrality  had  been  earnestly  pro- 
claimed and  presented  to  the  powers,  it  was  feared  that 
she  might  be  invaded  and  be  unable  to  maintain  her  in- 
tegrity by  her  military  force. 

Leopold  promptly  mobilized  the  army  and  massed  it 
upon  the  frontier.  During  and  after  the  battle  of  Sedan, 
a  large  number  of  both  French  and  German  soldiers 
crossed  the  border  and  were  interned  until  the  close  of  the 
war.  .  .  .  Once  more  peace  descended  upon  the  Belgians, 
for  a  fresh  treaty  prepared  by  England  and  signed  by 
both  France  and  Prussia  engaged  the  British  Govern- 
ment to  declare  war  upon  the  power  violating  its  provi- 
sions. 

After  his  acceptance  of  the  Crown  of  Belgium,  the  Con- 
stitution declared  the  monarchy  hereditary  in  the  male 
line  of  the  family  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg, 
which  consisted  of  two  sons  and  one  daughter.  The  elder 
of  the  sons  was  born  in  1835,  and  succeeded  his  father 

206 


A  WORD  ABOUT  THE  BELGIANS 

as  Leopold  II,  in  1865.  The  Austrian  Archduchess  Marie 
Henriette  became  his  wife  in  1853,  and  their  descendants 
were  one  son  and  three  daughters,  none  of  whom  is  now 
living.  The  Salic  Law  prevailing  in  Belgium,  the  his- 
tory of  the  female  descendants  is  not  of  political  impor- 
tance. The  only  son  of  Leopold  II  dying  in  1869,  tne 
succession  passed  to  the  brother  of  the  King,  the  Count 
of  Flanders,  who  married  Mary,  Princess  of  Hohenzol- 
lern,  a  sister  of  the  King  of  Roumania. 

The  death  of  their  son  Prince  Baldwin  in  1891  was  held 
to  be  a  national  calamity.  This  left  the  nephew  of  Leo- 
pold II,  Prince  Albert  (the  present  King  of  Belgium) ,  the 
heir  presumptive  to  the  throne.  He  married  in  1900  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  of  Bavaria;  to  them  have  been  born 
three  children,  two  boys  and  a  girl.  Both  the  King  and 
Queen,  the  objects  of  intense  devotion  on  the  part  of  the 
Belgians,  are  very  simple  and  democratic  in  their  bearing 
toward  the  people.  The  Queen  is  a  very  beautiful 
woman,  and  a  most  devoted  wife  and  mother.  .  .  . 
Since  the  seat  of  government  has  been  removed  to  Havre, 
the  Queen  divides  her  time  between  the  little  hamlet  of 
La  Panne,  headquarters  of  the  Belgian  army,  near  the 
town  of  Furnes  on  the  dunes  of  the  north  sea,  and  Lon- 
don, where  the  children  are  being  cared  for  and  educated. 
.  .  .  May  not  one  hope  that  brighter  days  are  in  store  for 
this  devoted  and  heroic  King  and  Queen,  for  the  once 

207 


VANISHED  TOWERS  OF  FLANDERS 

smiling  and  fertile  land,  and  for  the  kindly,  gentle,  and 
law  abiding  Belgian  people?  * 

*  The  author  refers  the  reader  to  "  The  Constitution  of  Belgium,"  J.  M. 
Vincent,  Phila.,  1898;  "  Belgium  and  the  Belgians,"  C.  Scudamore,  London, 
1904;  "  History  of  Belgium,"  D.  C.  Boulger,  London,  1900;  "  The  Story  of 
Belgium,"  C.  Smythe,  London,  1902. 


THE    END 


208 


INDEX 


Albert,  King  of  Belgium,  102,  207 
Alost,  church  of  St.  Martin's,   113, 
114 
Hotel  de  Ville,   ill 
Antwerp,  carillon  of,  52 

cathedral  of,  41,  44,  143 
Archers  of  St.  Sebastian,  66 
Artists  of  Malines,  list  of  the,  183- 

195 

Aymon,  legend  of  the  four  sons  of,     Carpreau,  Jean,  187 


Burgundy,  House  of,  68 
"  Mary  of,  165 

Carillons  of  Antwerp,    52 
"        of  Bruges,  52 
of  Ghent,  52 
"        of  Louvain,  52 
"        of  Malines,  52 
"        of  Tournai,  52 


l33-!36 

Baldwin  Bras-de-Fer,  $$,  171 
Baldwin  the  Ninth,  Count  of  Flan- 
ders, 72,  121 
Battle  of  the  Dunes,  the,  101 
Battle  of  the  Spurs,  the,  120,  172 
Battle  of  Waterloo,  the,  206 
Bayard,  the  horse,  133-138 
Beguinage,  the,  Courtrai,  121 
"  "     Malines,  23-24 

"     Ypres,  82 
Bell-founding,  process  of,  45-48 
Berincx,  Gregoire,   186 

"         Gregoire  le  Jeune,  186,  191 
Bethune,  Bobert  of,  Count  of  Flan- 
ders, 75,  79 
Biset,  Charles  Emmanuel,  191 

"      George,  191 
Bol,  Jean,  188 
Bouts,  Dierick,  48,   149 
Broel  Towers,  the,  Courtrai,  119,  123 
Bruges,  cathedral  of,  41 

library,  171 
Brussels,  cathedral  of,  41 

Museum     of     Decorative 
Arts,  76,   149 


Cathedral  of  Antwerp,  41 
of  Bruges,  41 
of  Brussels,  41 
"         of  Ghent,  41 
"         of  Malines,  18-19,  41,  42 
"         of  Ypres,  69,  73 
Charlemagne,   134-136 
Charles  the  Bold.  25,  76,  81 
Charles   the   Eleventh,    119 
Charles  the  Fifth,  18,  130,  165 
Cloth  Hall,  the,  Ypres,  69,  72-75,  78, 

80,  81 
Commines,  Philip  of,  86 
Cossiers,  I.,  24 
Coxie,  Jean,  185 

"       Jean  Michel,  185 
"       Michel,  184 

Michel  le  Jeune,  184 
"       Michel  the  Third,  185 

Michel  the  Fourth,  185 
"       Baphael,  185 
Counts'  Chapel,  the,  Courtrai,  121 
Courtrai,  the  Counts'  Chapel,  121 

the  Hall  of  the  Magistrates, 

129 
the  Town  Hall,   129 
Cuyp,  36,  102 


209 


INDEX 


De  Gryter,  Jean,  185 

De  Homes,  Jacques,  191,  193 

Deklerk,  44,  45 

De  Poindre,  Jacques,  1S7 

De  Vos,  Lambert,  188 

Douai,  Hotel  de  Ville,  157,  160 

Douai  Bible,  the,   158 

Dyle,  the  river,  21,  26,  152 

Elle,  Ferdinand,  192 

Franchoys,  Luc,  189 

Luc  le  Jeune,   190,   192, 

193 
Pierre,   190 

Franco-Prussian  War,  the,  206 

Fumes,  Hotel  de  Ville,  173 

Ghent,  the  carillons  of,  52 
Gild  of  St.  Luke,  the,  181 
Gothic  architecture,  styles  of,  90 
Great  Wars  of  Flanders,  the,  86 

Hall  of  the  Magistrates,  the,  Court- 
rai,  129 

Hals,  Frans,   141,  190 

Hanseatic  League,  the,  69 

Hanswyk,  the  Tower  of  Our  Lady  of, 
Malines,  26 

Haweis,  41,  43,  49,  50 

Hemony,  42,  49 

Henry  the  First,  152 

Herregouts,  David,   191 

Hoogenbergh,  Jean,  186 

Hotel  de  Ville  of  Alost,  ill 

of  Douai,  157,  160 

of  Fumes,    173 

of  Louvain,  147,  149 

150 
of  Oudenaarde,    164 
of  Ypres,  73 

Huet,  87,  89 

2 


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Hunin,    Matthieu    Joseph    Charles, 

"        Pierre  Paul  Aloys 
Hugo,  Victor,  52 

Ingelrams,  Andre,  187 

Corneille,  187 
Inghelbrugtorre,  Courtrai,  1 19 
Inquisition,  the  Spanish,  68 

Jansenius,     Cornelius,     Bishop     of 

Ypres,  73,  80 
Janssens,  Daniel,  193 
Jorlroy,  Jean  Barthelemy,  193 
Jordaens,    141 
Jube,  at  St.  Martin's,  Dixmude,  55, 

57-59,  62,  79 

Keldermans,  17,  18,  130 
Knights  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  36 
Knights  Templar,  the,  99,  101 

La  Panne,  74,  207 

La  Pla,  Jacques,  193 

Leopold    of    Saxe-Coburg,    King    of 
Belgium,  203,  204,  205 

Leopold  the  Second  of  Belgium,  207 

Le  Saive,  Jean,  190,  193 

Library,  the,  Bruges,  43,  171 
Brussels,  43 
Louvain,  43,  49,  150 

Lion  of  Flanders,  the,  22,  28 

Louis  of  Maele,  66,  67 

Louis  of  Nevers,  76 

Louis  Philippe,  203,  205 

Louis  the  Eleventh,  157 

Louis  the  Fourteenth,  158 

Louvain,  church  of  St.  Peter,    147, 
152 
carillons  of,  52 
Hotel  de  Ville,  149 
library,    149 

Loyola,  Ignatius,  21 

10 


INDEX 


Luther,  Martin,  21 

Lys,  the  river,  119,  120,  122-123 

Malines,  carillons  of,  52 

cathedral  of,  18-19,  41'  42 
St.   Rombauld,   17,    19,  22, 
26,  37,  44 
Margaret  of  Artois,  76 

of  Austria,  statue  of,  22 
"         of  Parma,  165 
of  York,  25,  76 
the    Courageous,    the    leg- 
end of,   150-153 
Marguerite  of  Flanders,  152 

of  Savoie,   18 
Mary  of  Burgundy,  165 
Matsys,  Quentin,  149 
Memling,  85,  148,  149 
Mercier,   Cardinal,   Primate  of  Bel- 
gium, 21,  167 
Moertens,  Thierry,  112 
Museum    of    Decorative    Arts,    the, 

Brussels,  76,    149 
Mysteries  of  the  Passion,  the,  175 

Nemours,  Due  de,  202 
Nieuwerck,  Ypres,  70,  73,  77 
Notre  Dame,  the  church  of,  Court- 
rai,  121 

Opdebeek,  Antoine,  194 

Oudenaarde,  church  of  St.  Walburga, 
165 
Hotel  de  Ville,  164 
Town  Hall,  17,  165 

Philip  of  Alsace,   119 

"       of  Savoie,  18 

"       the  Second  of  Spain,  85,  101 
Place  de  la  Boucherie,  25 

Quesnoy,  Jerome  due,  24 


Redel,  August  Casimir,  193 
Rembrandt,  141 
Rubens,  113,  141,  173,  190 
Ruskin,  28,  42 

St.  Martin's,  cathedral  of,  Ypres,  73, 

77.  78.  79 
church  of,  Alost,    113, 

114 
church     of,     Dixmude, 

55;  56.  57.  60 
St.  Mary   Bells,   in   Antwerp  cathe- 
dral, 44 
St.  Nicholas,  church  of,  Fumes,  99, 

171 
St.  Peter,  church  of,  Louvain,  147, 

152 
St.  Pierre,  tower  of,  Ypres,  80 
St.  Rombauld,  Malines,  chimes    of, 

19,  22 
"  spire  of,  17 

tower      of, 
26-37,  44 
St.    Walburga,    church    of,    Oude- 
naarde, 165,  174-176 
St.  Winoc,  the  abbey  of,  Bergues,  95 
Sainte  Begga,  23,  121 
Salvator  Bell,  the,  20,  48 
Scheldt,  the  river,  133,  204,  205 
Smeyers,  Egide  Joseph,  192 
Gilles,  192 
Jacques,  192 
Snellinck,  Jean,  188 
Speytorre,  the,  Courtrai,  119 
Stevens,  Pierre,  189 

Taillebert,  d'Urbain,  79 
Thierry  d'Alsace,  65,  85 
Toeput,  Louis,  188 
Tournai,  Town  Hall,  52 
Tower  of  the  Templars,  the,  Nieu- 
port,  99,  101 

11 


INDEX 


Town  Hall  of  Brussels,   17 
"  "      of  Courtrai,   129 

"      of  Dixmude,  56 
"      of  Louvain,   17 
"      of  Oudenaarde,  17 
"      of  Tournai,  52 

Trabukier,  Guillaume,  184 

Untenhoven,  Martin,  78 

Van  Aken,  Sebastian,  193 
Van  Artevelde,  family  of,  36 
Philip,  66,  86 
Van  Avont,  Pierre,  189 

Rombaut,  189 
Van  Battele,  Baudouin,  183 
Gautier,  183 
Jean,  183 
"  Jean  le  Jeune,  183 

Van  den  Gheyn,  family  of,  20,  33,  42, 

44-  45-  158 
"      "        "       Mathias,  147 
"      "        "       Peter,  48 

Van  Dyck,  133 

Van  Eyck,  Jean,  79 

Van  Halter,  Catherine,  24 

Van  Ophem,  Jean,  186 

Van  Orley,  Bernard,  184 

Van  Orshagen,  Jean,  183 

Van  Steynemolen,  Zacherie,  184 

Van  Thielen,  Jean  Philippe,  192 


Van  Valckenborgh,  Luc,  188 

Martin,   189 
Van  Yleghem,  Daniel,  183 
Van  Yper,  Carel,  80 
Vauban,  65 
Verbeek,  Francois,  186 

Hans,  186 
Vereeke,  65.  70 
Verhaegan,  P.  J.,  150,  153 
Verhoeven,  Jean,    191 

Martin,  191 
Verhulst,  Pierre  Antoine,  194 
Ver  Vloet,  Jean,  195 
Vinckboons,  Maur,  184 
Philip,  189 

Waghemans,  family  of,  20 
Waterloo,  the  Battle  of,  206 
Willems,  Marc,  187 
William  the  First  of  Holland,  199, 
201,  204 

Ypres,  the  Beguinage,  82 

the  cathedral  of,  69,  72 
the  Cloth  Hall,  69,   73,  74, 

75,  78,  80,  81 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  73 

Yser,  the  river,  $$,  62 

Zeelstman,  19 


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